#This is just How Conversion Rates Work. I know this

[space-blue]

I will tell you.

You need to have an internal list of boundaries. Things that bother you, and you can label them green, orange and red.

Green boundaries are small annoyances that's you're always willing to let go because it's either not worth it or you don't have much of a choice. Insert the meme "I'm nonbinary but rn I'm at work so I'm any gender you want".

Orange ones are ones that really bother you and don't want a repeat of. These you have to decide if/when to let go, and when to stand your ground and how.

For example, some friend keeps calling you by a nickname that totally rubs you the wrong way, and it's making you want to not hang out with them and undermining your friendship.

It sucks but you have to have a conversation about it. "Hey, I know I've been joking around and all, but it actually upsets me when you call me XX, and I would really appreciate it if you would stop."

It's that simple. In formal relationships it's easier because you can "correct" people's behaviours more cleanly. "Please stop doing that" or "Hi, i'd actually prefer if you'd do X".

With friends... the more you wait, the more you risk your friend being upset you didn't speak up earlier. Especially if they were always willing to accomodate you. They may now feel bad that you let them make YOU feel bad for so long. That's why speaking up asap is the best course of action.

And if your friend/the person refuses to respect your boundary, remember... It's not about making them change. IT'S ABOUT ENFORCING THE CHANGE YOU AGREED ON WITH YOURSELF.

Super easy example of that : I have a boundary where I don't tolerate my partner hitting me. If my partner crosses this boundary, then it's not about me saying "this crosses a boundary, you must change". It becomes me enacting my own rules : the consequences of them crossing this boundary means I leave them/break up, and take extra steps to get away safely.

You have to be ready to enforce these boundaries. In the friend exemple calling you a shitty nickname, the actions may be "repeat with more force and a stern tone", then "move to say you're very disappointed in their reaction and don't want to hang out unless they've changed their mind or are ready to have a conversation" all the way to "end the friendship".

I know how hard that is, trust me, I've done it. I've been totally isolated in a foreign country and cut ties with a close friend over the phone because he let me down at a terrible time and gave me attitude when he decided to get back in touch. I didn't have a choice. It was being alone vs. being treated like a door mat at the worst time possible by a fair weather friend. I know it's hard but this is what enforcing boundaries is like.

The red boundaries are simple. It's the stuff you have to react to immediately and enforce with prejudice.

Exemple: a guy I know joined my former company after I left. It was christmas, it was freezing, and the store insisted on keeping the doors open to let people "walk in more easily". He was trapped at the till freezing, customers were freezing, and then the manager ordered them to not wear any warm clothes like coats because it would "Look bad to customers".

The guy walked up to a manager, asked him if that order he heard was for real, and when he was told yes, he said "OK then I quit" and walked out.

That was a red boundary to him. A no talk, no negotiation, immediate action thing. Just like really "being hit by a partner" ought to be just that, with the reaction being packing your bags and leaving.

*

The difficulty, of course, is that you often encounter new boundaries in the wild. So you sometimes have to decide on the spot what sort of boundary has been crossed, and how to react to it.

But on the internet, logging off and sleeping on it is under rated. You don't have to react to stuff on the spot. It's more difficult IRL, but "hey, I've thought on it, and what you did/said at that time doesn't sit well with me" is a perfectly reasonable thing to say to address something that bothered you.

*

It may all sound very hard, but trust me, it's well worth doing. The older you get, the easier it becomes. Because 1/ you'll know your own limits better, and 2/you'll stop caring how others react more and 3/you'll learn first hand that people very often appreciate the opportunity to discuss things, and would rather reach a status quo. If you're being polite, there won't be nearly as much conflict as you might fear.

Do learn to excuse people and to let stuff slide gracefully, especially if people apologise. But yeah, at some point you have to find the words yourself and define your own boundaries, and act up on them.

That's it, my complete guide.

Pretending you're fine when people cross your boundaries doesn't make you a really nice person, it just makes you a really shitty communicator. Far too many people pride themselves on being "too nice" when it's just that they have zero conflict resolution skills and will seethe in resentment for months instead of articulating the problem

[danaens]

SEX AND GOTHAM CITY

EPISODE 2

SILK DRESSES, OLD SCARS… and casual sex

I stumble back from another disorienting Saturday night, the kind where you wake up genuinely grateful you did. The evening was a blur of too many Cosmos and one charming guy named Henry, whose skin smelled like Dior Sauvage and who gave off strong I want to sleep with you energy.

And that’s when I start to wonder: is casual sex still a right… or, in Gotham, has it become a calculated risk, with a survival rate?

In a city where turning the corner might get you killed, the bed of a stranger becomes either a grave… or a cradle of protection from the world outside.

And let’s be honest: here, danger doesn’t discriminate. You could fall into the arms of a sex-addicted maniac, or a nymphomaniac with a taste for bondage and taxidermy.

In doubt, I sacrifice myself, for research purposes, obviously, and end up tangled in the sheets with Mister Henry. Sheets that, fittingly, smell of odd fantasies.

He’s a political activist. Forty something. A fellow journalist who fills columns ranting about how Batman is a fascist and the enemy of democracy. God… maybe being tied up and sodomized would’ve been more fun.

Between one moan and the next… between his gasps of "Justice belongs to the people, not just one tyrant!"…I survive. Unfortunately.

⭒⋆��⭒⋆

Henry Fontana, 43, Journalist and Activist, Gotham Gazette: "I don’t do casual sex that often. I don’t just go with anyone. I like interesting women... the ones who can hold a conversation."

(Which doesn’t matter, because he does all the talking)

Cecilia Burleigh, 23, Architecture Student, AUG: "Casual sex scares me. I mean, it excites me too, the idea of sleeping with someone who only wants you for that, but also terrifies me. My friends have all ended up in… weird situations."

Lydia Child, 23, Architecture Student, AUG (Cecilia’s friend): "I had a friend-with-benefits thing. Then he fell in love with me, and that was the end of it. With strangers though? One guy once took me to his basement and said he had a kidnapping fetish. He was supposed to be the one kidnapped..."

Dr. Ralph Farnham, 36, Physician at Blackgate: "I have sex every day... sometimes I don’t even pay attention to the face."

Silver St. Cloud: "For me, casual sex is the only kind I have with men. That’s how they should be taken, on top, or when you’re bent over. If there are feelings involved, taking it from behind stops being pleasure and starts being pain."

⭒⋆🍸⭒⋆

As I write this all down, I feel a strange sense of contradiction bubbling up.

I’ve spent years working the streets, met more men than I care to count, and now that it's not work but pleasure, I’m… afraid?

Tonight, the Wayne Foundation is hosting one of those classic “charity” events, where the only charity is the open bar. For my friends and me, it’s Christmas in heels: silk gowns, bad botox, and unlimited Pinot Grigio. Silver is, of course, front and center, clipboard in hand, like the prom queen she never stopped being.

But this year’s invite includes a chilling clause: "Guests are requested to attend with a companion.”

Translated from Gothamesque: if you're single, stay home.

Apparently, Gotham’s elite isn’t ready for “single empowerment.”

Sunday morning. The only mass I attend religiously is brunch at Vesper’s. Her apartment is peak minimalist-chic: cream-colored walls, nude female art, and black fig candles that scream expensive.

Silver dives into the scrambled eggs. "They only write that for show" she says between sips of mimosa, in that voice that sounds like she knows everything and judges nothing. "You don’t have to bring a man."

"Well, I’m tired of the formality" I reply. "Why assume I need a plus-one just to walk through the door? This isn’t a gala, it’s a secret society initiation."

Barbara, naturally sarcastic, chimes in with a smirk: "It’s all a ploy. They’re scouting who’s got the genes for fashionable heirs."

I burst out laughing. So hard I spill coffee on my new blouse. Goodbye, vintage Armani-from-a-street-market.

"Bianca!" Vesper gasps, like I’ve just cursed in church. "I actually think it’s cute" she continues, dreamy-eyed. "Assuming everyone has a ‘someone’... it’s kind of romantic."

Silver looks at her like she just suggested reviving the corset. "Honey, half the women those men bring are escorts picked up between Crime Alley and Park Row." She glances at me."And no offense to the escorts. But there’s nothing romantic going on here."

"I met a lawyer the other day" Vesper says, all conspiratorial. "His name is Harvey."

Barbara raises an eyebrow. "Harvey Dent? He’s fifteen years older than you and has double the personalities."

"So what?" Vesper replies. "He invited me to the gala. He’s sweet."

"Again with the dynasty concept..." I mutter, dabbing coffee off my blouse, wondering if baking soda can fix regret.

The day I decide to write about casual sex, I realize that in Gotham, it’s not just a fear, it’s a taboo. At least for the upper crust, who still want you fake, married, and smiling.

⭒⋆🍸⭒⋆

For the gala, I choose a white satin dress and my trusty Afghan jacket. I feel like Penny Lane in a sea of fake James Bonds and bleached-blonde Vesper Lynds.

Cosmo number three. My girls are scattered across the social jungle, probably flirting with predators in tailored tuxedos. I look around. Silver’s right: the escorts are everywhere. And yes, I recognize a few. Gotham is a handkerchief, small, sparkly, and full of gunpowder.

"So drinking’s a vice now?" A voice behind me. Male, familiar..I turn around. It’s him, the guy I ran into the other day.

"I wasn’t drunk" I say, which isn’t a total lie. "I was... dazed. Nothing’s a vice if you do it with awareness."

He laughs. Dangerous smile. This time, in a black suit that looks guilty on purpose. "So you’re Bianca. The girl who writes about sex. Didn’t recognize you last time." He smirks. "Read your article. The one about vigilantes. It's funny."

"You think vigilantes are funny?"

"No. But you are."

"You should be complimenting my looks, not making me feel like a stand-up clown."

He laughs again. He has a cut on his lip, and that smile,it’s honest. Like it’s the first one in years. "Making someone laugh is a gift. Clowns don’t have it. They just piss me off."

I smile back. It’s somewhere between hard and soft. But only his eyes seem soft. The rest? It’s all armor. He doesn’t smell like Dior or Versace. He smells like tobacco and masculinity, heavy, gritty, real.

"I’m Jason, by the way. Jason Todd" he says, not warmly, but definitely with intent.

"And I’m Bianca Bradshaw. But you already knew that. You look out of place." (It’s the classic line we all say at these parties.)

"I’m family. But still out of place. You? You seem comfortable."

"Comfortable, but not family." I answer honestly. I’ve adapted here, but this world? It’s not like where i came from.

"What are you writing about now?" he asks, bold as ever.

"Casual sex. And how dangerous it is. You know, for a woman, the idea of wanting to sleep with someone but being terrified he’s a psycho..."

He sips his bourbon. "Gotham’s dangerous for everyone."

And there it is,the awkward pause. I’m probably being too shallow. I am charismatic, but I say stupid things. And for once, I don’t know why I’m second-guessing myself. Jason’s interesting. He could be another test subject for my article. But he’s not easy. Getting under his covers seems harder than getting in his head.

Another guy calls out to him, slightly shorter, friendlier, but with those same Gotham-tough eyes.

And just like that… Jason disappears.

⭒⋆🍸⭒⋆

Maybe unlike other women, I'm not afraid of casual sex, I'm afraid of feelings. Whether they are positive or not. I'm afraid of when I'm not the one putting the cards on the table, but there's someone else who mixes them.

So I ask myself

In Gotham is more dangerous casual sex or having feelings for someone?

I hope you like this episode, let me know <3 In the next ones I'll try to delve into the other girls too!! I really enjoy writing, I hope you also read.

[ranvwoop]

I love going to look for cute object and then it would cost 90$ because shipping and conversion ... so called "35$" object when canadians walk into the room

[diltonsstrangescience]

DANG. Absolutely cold-blooded.

[theladygazingatemptiness]

hm. so looks like my love for making art is just gone forever huh

[satoblue]

SPOTS — nanami kento

kento’s yellow tie goes missing. | wc: 1.0k

f!reader, established relationship (married), you have a daughter, fluff, kento can’t say no to his little girl, the backstory of how his tie came to be… unique, unedited, this was rushed and unplanned, satoru cameo at the end (i couldn’t help myself heh) | dividers made by me

kento’s tie didn’t always have the black spots it does today. it used to be a simple, bright yellow, void of the interesting pattern which was frankly — not of his own choosing. that is, until it went missing one morning.

the man searched high and low in a rush. at this rate, he would be late for work.

where he usually stored this specific yellow tie to go with this outfit in particular, he found the little pocket beside all his other neatly organized ones to be empty.

how unusual. it’s not as if it grew a pair of legs and walked away on its own.

“hm…”, he hummed to himself in thought, fist below his chin as he cruised his brain to remember where it was last seen. you watch from the bed, having just woken up, blinking away your drowsiness as your flustered husband tries retracing his steps.

even in your tiredness, you can tell what this is about. he was your man after all.

after a minute of erratic pacing, kento turns to you, face determined and serious. before he can question if you knew about its whereabouts, you give a slight shake of the head.

still disoriented, slowly coming back down to earth, you reply hoarsely, “when i did the laundry, i put it in there. you can’t find it?”

you shuffle out of bed, your feet meeting the carpeted flooring as you make your approach to the dresser.

he grumbles under his breath, a small “no”, mind preoccupied with finding his lost tie.

“can’t you just wear another? i’ll find it later while you’re at work.” you suggest carefully, peeking into the dresser and admiring the variety in your husband’s collection.

you pick one out with a delicate touch, a light blue bordering white, holding it to his chest over his very blue dress shirt.

kento gives you a look, like he expects you to know the reason why. and even if he did, he doesn’t fail to explain it to you yet again. it is simply one of his quirks.

he pries the piece of fabric gently from your hands, folding it back up.

“you know the others don’t go well with this outfit, dearest. especially this one — it clashes with my shirt.”

you huff.

“oh, you—”

before you can respond in a teasing, exasperated manner like usual at his peculiar antics, the both of you turn your heads towards the doorway at the sound of excited little feet skipping down the hall. a small head of hair peeks in not a moment later.

“daddy’s tie?”, your little one inquires, the incomplete sentence endearing to your ears. she must’ve overheard your conversation and her father’s ceaseless shuffling so early in the morning.

“yes, baby. daddy’s tie is missing.” you smile sweetly, crouching slightly. “the yellow one.” you clarify.

your daughter blinks. and then she does it again.

“yellow?”, she repeats.

“mhm!”, you nod.

she takes your hand into both of hers. “i know!”

kento’s brows raise, fixing his sleeves down where he had previously rolled them up to his elbows, and you look down at her in surprise. “you do?”

you take a glance at your husband and then back again. “where is it?”

she doesn’t answer your question exactly, but she does giggle cheekily, “made it pretty.”

you don’t even have to turn back around to see that your husband had frozen in place from those three words. you continue to smile, though you were a bit wary.

“made it pretty..? what do you mean by that, baby?”

“was ugly… baby made it pretty…”, her voice trails off, getting more unsure and quiet by the second under her father’s blank stare.

with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, you hold back a snort.

you don’t know whether to laugh at the fact your daughter was referring to herself in the third person by the pet name you and her father tend to call her by, rarely mentioning her real one unless she was being naughty that she forgets it is even her own name — or that she decorated one of her daddy’s precious ties.

when kento fails to say anything, likely still in shock, you speak up.

“can you show me?”

hesitating slightly, your baby girl nods. she takes one of your fingers into her small hand, guiding you out of your bedroom and into her play room while kento follows closely and silently from behind.

upon entering, you notice it immediately on her play table beside a black, uncapped marker that was likely dried out at this point. she takes it, holding it up for both of you to see her spotty craftsmanship on the silky fabric.

kento’s tie did not, in fact, grow legs and wander off. but, it looks like it would.

“giraffe!”

the both of you stare wordlessly.

now, kento could be quite the complex man at times. he could just wear another color tie. or yet, if he’s feeling a little extra, go to a store on his lunch break and buy an identical one.

he decides, ultimately, it is too much of a hassle.

there is also the urge inside him to correct his daughter on her misconception that giraffe’s have black spots and that they were yellow — that the design is more akin to that of a lizard’s.

but the bright, sparkling eyes of his little girl peering up at him stops him before he can even utter a word.

he’ll probably purchase another one. for now, he guess he’ll just have to make do.

extra:

when kento heads to work half an hour later, he knows on the way there that he has to prepare. he knows what to expect from a certain someone.

as he steps foot into the building, he immediately hears the familiar voice from across the hall.

gojo satoru snorts.

“nice tie, nanami!”

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[certifiedyapperx]

imagine you’re dating ghost and no one knows. the two of you have kept it a secret on your end and his just for your protection— because ghost knows what could happen if someone finds out, how someone might try and target you to get to him, or worse, given his line of work.

but then imagine that he’s on a mission, interrogating some piece of filth ready to decorate the fucking wall with his brain matter when the guy says “you know what, simon, killing me would be the biggest mistake of your life.”

immediately ghost would pause, eyes narrowed, though his hardened demeanour wouldn’t fade much, he’d just blankly stare at the prick like “oh yea? n’ why don’ you tell m’ why.”

the shit-eating grin that would crawl across that fuckers lips would have ghost ready to kill him right then and there, but then he’d say “reach in my pocket. pull out my phone.”

id like to think ghost would have absolutely none of this assholes bullshit, not at all entertained by his theatrics. i’d like to think he’d just press the muzzle of his gun to the fuckers temple within an instant, all teeth barred and ready to get it over with when the guy would add,

“your girlfriend is a fucking beauty, isn’t she?”

everything would pause. ghost, time, the world, air, the universe itself—the life that would drain from ghosts face would almost be enough to make his alias a reality. his heart pounding in his throat, his fingers fucking trembling as he immediately reached into the assholes pocket to find his phone—a picture of a woman tied up (face not in view however) lighting up on the home screen. there’d be no thinking rationally, no thoughts in ghosts head except for making sure you were fucking okay. he’d do whatever he’d have to do, kill the guy, leave him strapped there, whatever—he’d be out of that room in two seconds flat and personally flying the helicopter back to your house calling you nonstop every fucking second until you answered.

“hello? si?”

he’d wait a second before answering. taking everything in. background noises, the inflection of your voice. it sounds calm, maybe too calm? he’s grasping his phone so fucking hard it’s a miracle it hasn’t shattered between his fingers.

“princess,” he breathes, fighting with everything in him to keep his voice steady. “see any birds today?”

though it was a genuine question, it also was an established one. ghost had set up a series of questions for a situation precisely like this. if you said blue jay, it meant you were fine, at home, as usual. if you said crows, it meant you weren’t.

“oh just the usual blue jays, si.” he could almost hear the smile on your lips. “everything okay? i miss you.”

ghost would exhale a shattered breath. “i’m coming home.”

and then he’d show up, not all but a few hours later, hands still trembling slightly, heart rate still struggling to regulate. it was too much, reminding him too much of his past traumas, he knew he needed to find better protection for you, but that was a conversation for another time.

he’d come in the house, barely even taking the time to shut the door behind him, almost frenzied again, relentless, unable to relax until he could finally lay eyes on you. and then, the second he did, he’d just pause and look at you, all messy hair and pyjamas still on, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for you both since you knew he was on his way.

and he wouldn’t say a goddamn word, he’d just come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, hugging you so tight you’d hardly be able to breathe, his face buried in your hair and his heart thumping at your back. you’d feel the pain the fear the anxiety radiating off him and you wouldn’t try to say anything because you knew he needed this, you knew he needed to see you, hold you, feel your pulse stable and alive. you knew he just needed a moment to breathe.

and so the two of you would stand there like that for a while, and then he’d take a big inhale and spin you around to face him, pulling up his mask to plant soft kisses on your jaw.

“i love you so fuckin’ much.”

[4-the-l0ve-0f-art]

“The Captain’s beloved…wait, what?!”

Capitano x Gender Neutral Reader one shot

Work count: 2.2k

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship

Rating: General Audiences

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: The fatui discover that their Captain does, in fact, have a life outside of work and gossip between the ranks ensues. (Cue silly fatui shenanigans)

Ao3 Link

Capitano, the Fatui’s first lord and harbinger, contrary to popular belief, was respected and admired by his platoons rather than feared. There was a widespread misunderstanding both in and outside the organization that the Captain was a harsh and dangerous leader due to his mysterious nature. However, the people who worked under him knew better as they had grown to admire him the more they interacted with him.

He held himself with pride and treated his soldiers the same way he wanted to be treated: with respect and dignity. And in return, they learned the depths of this man’s strategic genius and strength. His strength was unmatched in combat and led his people well with good decision making and training. They could only hope to be as good as him in his various fields of expertise.

He was strict, and quick to discipline unruly fatuus, yes, but that did not stop others under his command from admiring him. And to emphasize this even more, it was clear that his fellow harbingers and even the Tsarista respected him, whether their goals and morals aligned with his or not. However, this made the people around him curious about aspects related to him outside of his work and title. He was a revered public figure and people were naturally curious about his personal life.

This is where you came in. You, his one and only beloved, the only person who held his whole heart in your hands. Not many people knew of this, but the Captain was a gentle man at his core, and you had somehow managed to uncover all of his being and see him fully as himself, without his title, without his strength. You knew this man inside and out, just as he had come to know you. It was a mutual love, one which even he did not know he was capable of feeling, and that made him all the more enamored with you.

This, however, people did not know. So you can imagine the surprise on their faces when you, an ordinary civilian, came to the Zapalyarny Palace and asked for directions to the Captain’s office. The clerk at the desk looked at you blankly, as if she were staring at an anomaly. This prompted you to try and explain yourself.

“..I’m here to drop off his lunch. So, if you don’t mind..?” You asked.

No response. The blank stare continued.

You already knew that you looked out of place in this grand palace with no Fatui uniform or mask on. But you were determined to make sure your beloved got his lunch, which you had specifically decided to make for him that day as a special treat for how hard he had been working while preparing for a business trip to Natlan.

“Excuse me..?” You said a little louder this time. That seemed to snap her back to reality.

“You cannot enter this place, only authorized personnel are allowed inside. If you’d like to meet our lord, please book your appointment accordingly.” She replied on autopilot, as if she’d rehearsed the same sentence multiple times.

“I’m sorry, I know you have your duties, but I’m here just to drop off his lunch. You can check with him yourself if you’d like..”

“He’s busy at the moment, please leave your package here and we will deliver it to him.” She replied. It seemed like you were being studied like a suspicious person who was attempting to sneak in.

Fair enough.. you thought. I was hoping I would get to spend a few minutes with him and see how he was holding up at work but that can wait till he’s home. And she’s not wrong, I did drop by without notice, so it makes sense for them to be suspicious.

Fatui soldiers passing by had also been glancing at the ongoing conversation at the front desk, eyeing the lunch box wrapped in patterned cloth in your hands with raised eyebrows. You decided to leave the food there, getting one last word in before leaving.

“If you could, please make sure it reaches him soon. It’s his favorite meal and I would prefer it didn’t go cold before he ate it.”

And then everyone watched as your ordinary self left, unaware of the number of eyes on you.

…

A pyroslinger skirmisher stationed near the entrance asked dumbfoundedly, “Did..did they just say that was the Captain’s favorite meal? Our lord harbinger?”

A cryogunner skirmisher who had also watched the whole thing go down as he clocked in asked another question right after, in the same state of confusion as the previous fatuus. “..Has anyone seen them around before? They don’t look like someone who would be seen standing next to Lord Capitano.”

And as the just as confused clerk left the scene towards his office with your goods in hand, excited chatter filled the halls.

Chaos would be the right word for it. You had left chaos in your wake with a simple visit to his workplace.

…

That night, as you and Capitano settled in to relax in your shared home after a long day of work, you asked him how his lunch was.

“It was delicious, my love.” He replied, gently caressing your face with his hands while looking down at you through his mask. “It felt like a treat to have your home cooked meal at work. You didn’t have to, but thank you. It made my day.”

You smiled and took his hands in yours as you nuzzled into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. I was going to give it to you myself but I couldn’t enter the place.”

“You should visit more often. I’ll let the security personnel know to let you enter so you can come and go as you like.” He paused, clearing his throat. “..Seeing you in the middle of a long day would bring me relief.”

You felt slightly flushed at his straightforward choice of words. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you being so..open with me. But I like it, of course. I would like that as long as I’m not disturbing you at work.”

Capitano chuckled. It was like the angels decided to bless you today, really. “I will always make time for you, my love. Just as you do for me.”

You beamed. “Okay, okay, let’s get some sleep now, Mr. Loverman. We still have work tomorrow in case you’re forgetting.”

A kiss on the forehead and the rustling of sheets was all you heard before you were whisked away to dreamland.

…

Unbeknownst to you and Capitano, however, word about you spread like wildfire across the next few days between the excited fatui soldiers. Some from even the different departments under the other harbingers might’ve heard. The person who looked like a civilian, dropping lunch packed in pretty cloth for their Lord did not go unnoticed.

This was the only time someone unrelated to work had been seen asking for their Captain and questions about your relation to him were on the tip of everyone’s tongue during break times.

Two fatuus gossiped as they watched the Captain spar in training with his fellow soldiers, admiration evident in their eyes.

“Someone dropped off lunch for him? I thought he would be too busy having meals with high rankers from across Teyvat.”

And after a short pause the other replied, “Dude, hold on, does he even eat? I thought he was superhuman or something.”

“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were that dumb, my guy.”

“Hey! Just saying… anyway, are we even sure the people weren’t hallucinating when they saw the person drop lunch off for him?”

“I heard it was his favorite meal, freshly cooked, apparently. Who knows, man? Maybe it was a fan or something. Our lord does have a pretty big following, y’know.” The fatuus stated proudly.

Their lively chatter continued until they were called back into training.

…

A few days later, as soon as you found the time, you decided to visit Capitano at work with yet another home cooked meal. You wanted to make most of your time with him before he traveled to Natlan and having meals together would be a good way to wind down a little.

You entered the palace yet again, determined to meet him this time. It should be fine, right? He did say he would inform them..

And as you had hoped so, he did, in fact, inform them. As soon as the same clerk from before saw you, it seemed like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets. All you had to do was reach the desk and she confirmed your name and led you to the training grounds, where he was currently working. It seemed like some sort of training session was in the works, with all kinds of combat taking place between the soldiers in the distance.

Before you could ask her if you were even allowed to enter this place, she bowed and hurried back in the direction of the front desk. The strange behavior didn’t go unnoticed by you but now you had to find your way to Capitano across the opposite side of the field. Since you were here at last, why not just see things through?

The middle of the field was the most densely occupied with various people fighting in different groups, while what you recognised as skirmishers were practicing their aim at dummy targets on the right side. The soldiers were hard at work even in the harsh everlasting winter of Snezhnaya. The left side of the field, however, seemed less crowded compared to the rest as people seemed to be setting up their gear or resting. Your Captain, opposite to you across the field, was busy conversing with a group of soldiers who seemed to be listening to him attentively.

You decided your best option was to take the left side. It would be easier to walk through the calm atmosphere over there.

As you made your way through the crowd, people started to notice you. They were pretty intimidating with their weapons and muscled bodies at display so you decided to be extra careful to not bump into anyone and quickly made your way across, and as you got closer, Capitano’s voice became clear.

“The heat in Natlan will be unbearable. You will be stationed in the wild all day, so make sure you have the appropriate supplies to get you through the day. It is of the utmost importance that...what, what is it? Why are you all staring at me like that?”

The group’s attention shifted from him to you, as you stood behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Capitano, do you have a moment..?” You asked as he turned around, his armor clinking from the movement.

“Oh, my love!” He exclaimed in a soft voice. “What brings you here? Hold on, let's get you back inside. You’ll catch a cold here.”

The group (and everyone nearby) watched in complete awe as his demeanor from before completely switched from authoritative to somewhat… joyfull? Was Lord Capitano being affectionate?

“I brought you lunch, but I can leave it in your office if you’re busy right now.” You said hurriedly, not wanting to keep him busy.

“No, that won’t do, my love.” He took the package from you and placed his hand on your back. “Eat with me inside.”

He then turned back to the group, who jolted straight up at his sudden change. “Finish the supply preparations once you’re done training. All of you are dismissed.”

“Y-yes, my lord!” They replied in unison and bowed. And yet again, they watched in awe as he guided you back inside the palace, ever so gently, one hand on your back and the other carrying a box wrapped up in a floral patterned cloth. A stark contrast to his all black and blue outfit.

…

As soon as both of you were out of sight, chaos erupted yet again, more loudly this time, with multiple voices talking over the other.

“”My love?” Did he just call them “my love?” Did I hear that right?!”

“What was that? What did we just witness?”

“That was so romantic, holy shit! Was that the same person we take orders from everyday? What the hell?!”

“DID THE LORD HARBINGER JUST… GET VISITED BY THEIR SPOUSE?”

“I thought that ring on his finger was for fashion…”

And that is how they found out that their beloved Captain, who seemed to have no soul outside of his work, was a married man with a loving spouse.

This proceeded to be the hottest gossip in the Fatui for the rest of the month, until they discover more about you from another future visit.

…

BONUS:

Sitting in the privacy of his office, you enjoyed your meal together.

“..You seem to work with very strange people, Capitano.” You said to him.

“Do I? How so?” He asked before you fed him a bite.

“Hm.. actually, nevermind. It would be even stranger if they weren’t strange, considering they work with you.” You chuckled.

You enjoyed your time together and went back home, leaving your beloved in confusion from your conversation, and the sight of you fondly feeding him for him to think about for the rest of the day.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ROOM FOR RENT

PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k

SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕

WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.

Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.

Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--

Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.

Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.

He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.

Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.

"Hello?"

A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"

"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"

"How much is it?"

"Your half would be $950.”

"And it's a whole bedroom?"

"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."

"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."

"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"

"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.

"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"

"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."

"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"

"Just tell me, I'll remember."

After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.

No results.

You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.

No results.

You try spelling his name differently.

No results.

You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.

A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.

"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.

He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.

Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.

Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.

"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.

"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"

Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."

"My what?"

"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"

"No," Logan grunts.

"A cold date, then?"

Logan pinches his nose. "No."

"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"

"The who?"

"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.

"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.

"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"

"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."

"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"

"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."

"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.

"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."

Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.

"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.

You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.

Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.

"Hi! You must be--“

Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.

"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.

"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."

You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.

"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"

"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."

"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"

"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."

"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."

"Dumpling?"

As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.

"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."

Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.

"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”

"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"

"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.

"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."

"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"

Were you?

"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."

Having a roommate is...an adjustment.

Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.

But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.

Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.

"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"Yeah, bub?"

"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"

He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.

"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"

"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"

A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.

"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.

"I don't see it."

"It's the bone structure."

"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"

"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."

Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.

It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.

That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.

Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.

He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.

It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.

Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.

Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.

"Shut up," he whispers.

Dumpling meows in return.

You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.

"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"

Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.

You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--

Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.

"Morning," he says.

"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"

"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.

"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"It will be."

He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.

You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.

Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.

"Shut up," you whisper to him.

Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.

You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.

"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.

"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."

Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.

"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"

"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"

Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.

"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"

"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"

"Ouch!"

"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"

"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."

Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.

"Get out," he growls.

"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"

"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.

You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?

"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."

"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.

"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."

You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you should be doing."

His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.

"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."

"But I could," he bites back.

"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.

Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.

"How can you be so sure?" he asks.

You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.

"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.

His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.

You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.

"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."

"Do what?" you tease.

"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."

You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.

"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."

You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.

"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.

"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."

He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.

You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.

"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"

He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."

You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.

You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Just getting started."

Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.

You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.

"Scared yet?" he asks.

"I wouldn't say that.”

He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.

"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."

Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.

He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.

Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.

"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"

You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.

"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.

"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.

In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.

"Please," you murmur.

"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."

"Need you to fuck me."

Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.

"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."

You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.

He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.

Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.

"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.

Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.

"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.

"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.

You've got better things to do right now.

Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!

[mixingandmelting]

I loved your posts about how the batboys act when they’re crushing on the reader, and I was wondering if you had any hcs on any questionable habits they’d have when crushing on the reader. I’d imagine bc it’s Gotham city and it’s dangerous they’d be quite protective they’d probably know what route you take to work, when you get home, etc. or really just anything else stupid or weird they’d do if they liked you 😂

Dick: Surprise

Up from where he’s perched on the roof, he coos at seeing your eyes snap right then to left.

“Just a step closer to the street lamp…” He mumbles, his patience already running thin in anticipation and excitement. And, bingo, you’re right where he wants you.

Pressing send on his phone, he quietly jumps down and lands right behind you as you stand there, checking the text you just received.

“What does he want now?” You grumble your breath, not all realizing the head that leans over your shoulder and stays right next to your ear.

“Who wants what now?”

“Eek!”

For a minute, it’s silent. Your face beet red with a hand covering your mouth. His eyes on you in disbelief. Then:

“Pfft-“

He bursts out laughing, laughing even harder when you smack his arm and tell him to shut up.

“Dick!”

“That’s my name.” He quickly tilts his head, dodging your fist.

It can’t be helped, him teasing you like this. He’s a vigilante in love, head over heels for you to where he changed his patrol route so it would be timed when you leave work and he could follow you around with the excuse that he’s doing his job whenever he gets caught by you. Surprise attacks? He tells you it’s his way of making sure you have your guard up when it’s actually a small bonus for himself since your reactions always manage to send warmth and happiness down his spine, knowing your attention is on him.

Also how else would he be able to spend more time with you on a daily basis?

Jason: Weaponry

Same time, same place. He blankly stands in front of the glass shelf, mentally debating what to get you.

He’s been playing bodyguard, walking you from work to your place every night (sometimes following you when he’s being Red Hood but you didn’t need to know that) only to find out up to earlier today, you were walking in the city with the highest crime rate in the dead night and unarmed.

“Do you even know any self defense? Own self-defense?”

“No…? Why would I?” The urge to facepalm felt so real, questions on how you got it this far in his mind.

“Have you… ever considered…?”

“Why when I have you?”

…Fuck.

He rubs his face with hand, trying to smother out the flames blazing under his cheek. Whether it was intentional or not, he hasn’t figured out yet. What he does know is that you’re so smooth and cheeky, mostly likely unaware how the simplest things you do can affect him so much. Precious and so darn cute that it becomes another reason for him to worry about you from the desire of needing to protect you and your adorableness in case anyone else were to notice and snatch you away because of it.

The shopkeeper's bell rings and his hand holds a plastic bag for a change when he exits the store. A pepper spray, a switchblade - some beginner friendly stuff. He was on the fence with the personal alarm that’s disguised as a keychain considering he already had a tracker on you just in case. But having another one might not be so bad, right?

Tim: Social stalking

“Amateurs.” He snorts to himself, listening to his siblings’ conversation over the coms.

The whole following around the city is such an old classic. GPS tracking with the latest cutting-edge technology? Sure, it’ll help with keeping track, finding places to go and, maybe, where to eat on the next hang out. But the real way to do things is to do what he does: follow every social.

Snapchat, Facebook, hell even Pinterest and Tumblr, he follows you on, your socials a cornucopia of your likes and dislikes whether it’s current or in the past. How else would he have known to get you Elden Ring or that one hoodie you’ve been eyeing the past few days? Also, did you really think it was a coincidence that he’d bring up going to that one new bakery last week during the time you suddenly craved for baked goods?

The best part about it is how he’s still connected to you even when he’s not physically there and can’t text you. Reading and liking every post you make about your day fills his heart, saving any photo you take on to his phone with a dopey smile especially if it’s of you. You’re just a button away rather than miles, making him think about you constantly.

So he mutes everyone on his end and goes back to the problem at hand, that is figuring out how to become mutuals. After all, you don’t know that he knows and follows you. But he really wants to comment on your posts, especially on the latest featuring you in a Red Robin hoodie while fanning over it in the caption.

Duke: Light fluctuation

Small orbs of light surround the two of you as you both walk through Gotham Park on a summer night.

“Woah, look at all these fireflies! I think it’s the most I’ve seen so far!” Your eyes sparkle, smiling with childish glee and excitement.

“Y-yeah, it sure does…”

Mentally, he screams. He’s sweating bullets, begging everything in the universe that you didn’t hear his voice crack.

It became a thing now where every time he’s with you, he’d subconsciously emote through his powers. Just the other day, he had to distract you from looking down at your shadow because there were heart-shaped shadows surrounding yours. Last week was worse. He was on patrol, saw you, and started glowing like a glow-stick. A fucking glow-stick. The only saving grace for that incident was the sun coincidentally shining behind him when he waved at you though he didn’t appreciate the texts he got in the group chat asking why he was emitting light brighter than said star.

Now there’s this, his powers completely filling the park. At least there are actual fireflies blinking here and there in between but he’s pretty sure ninety-percent of those lights are from him.

seeing you haven’t suspected anything, he starts to unwind and enjoy the walk. Until his phone vibrates.

A hand over his face, he groans when it’s a text from Bruce, annoyance turned into horror at the news clip his mentor has sent him asking if he knew anything about the light-dome phenomenon that’s occurring.

“Duke, you good…? You don’t look great…”

“Just peachy.” His voice pitched, struggling to suppress his tears of despair.

Damian: Following around

He refuses to be slandered by Drake. Unlike the other who failed to trick his team members with a stupid disguise (like seriously, the best name he could make up was Mr. Sarcastic?), he was able to follow the son of Superman undetected by acting as the latter’s substitute teacher AND bus driver

Also, the older male does realize they do this all the time regardless of civilians or criminals alike, right? It’s nothing much different to that. If anything , it’s killing two birds with one stone where he’s able to observe you while being available to protect you if anything were to happen by following you around.

It can’t be helped, when, in his opinion, you’re not aware of your surroundings. It’s one thing for you to not realize that he likes you but it's another when One too many times, there would be someone getting too touchy with you for his liking leading him to have to them away.

Hence the current situation where he’s leaning against a tree and putting away the mini sketchpad with another completed sketch of you in it.

“What’s so great about that book anyways?” He grumbles as he watches you read the same book the fifth time this week at the stump of the same tree he’s on.

He startles when you suddenly snap the book close.

“Da- Robin, I know you’re in the tree.”

“Tt.”

Dammit. He got caught again. With that, he jumps down while preparing to face your annoyance. At least you’re thinking this is the first time, neither denying or confirming how many times he’s done it so far.

[spideyjimin]

Before you | jjk

⤷ part of the dads universe

⏤ pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: friends to lovers, angst, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, long-haired!jungkook, pregnancy, mention of abortion, sexual tension, alcohol consumption, a lot of making out, finger sucking, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, mention of oral sex, swearing, some teasing, pet names, pregnancy kink, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms 

⏤ words: 16,354

⏤ summary: jungkook has taken a huge place in your life after he tattooed you, and you can’t even picture how life was before him. he has always been there for you since day one. but how will things change after you find out you’re pregnant?   

⏤ author’s note: so guys, yesterday i tried to post this but it was a complete mess 😫 hopefully today it works without any issues! in any case, i’m happy to post this fic once more, especially since a lot of you asked for it 💜 it was a bit odd to read something i wrote years ago but it was at the same time intriguing because i’ve changed since i wrote it. hope you’ll like it 💜

MASTERLIST

OCTOBER 5, 2018

In a few minutes, Jungkook is coming.

You’re in your bathroom with a pregnancy test in your hands. Yong-ji, your best friend has convinced you in some way to do it, she thinks that you don’t have the flu. For the past week, you have had all the symptoms of the flu and you stayed home to rest a bit. But she doesn’t think that’s what you have. 

Before you can even see the result, there’s a knock on your door. Jungkook. 

He has no idea that you’re taking that pregnancy test, Yong-ji herself is not even aware. After she insisted several times, you told her that you wouldn’t do it. Unlike her, you’re convinced that you’re not pregnant. 

You leave the bathroom, put the test in the corner of the sink, and run to the door to open it for your friend. Jungkook has been around for a bit more than a year, and he has been one of your closest friends lately. Always there when you need him the most. And you’re just grateful to have met him. 

“You look so pale,” he comments when he sees you. 

“Hello to you too, JK,” you say, smiling back at him. “Come on in.” 

His eyes look at you with concern before entering your small apartment. It’s not huge, unfortunately, you’re not rich yet but it’s so comfy. You liked this apartment the second you first saw it because it was what you needed. 

“I brought some things to eat,” he says while walking to the kitchen with a little bag in his hands. “I guess you didn’t eat anything today.” 

That man understands you as nobody does. Although your friendship is very recent, he probably knows you better than Yong-ji who has been your friend for six years. You wonder how that's even possible. 

You’re just behind him, following him into the kitchen, and he puts his handbag on the small table. Today, Jungkook is wearing a sweater with black skinny jeans, and you know for sure that under his sweater, he’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that he wore all day at work.   

“How was your day?” you ask, trying to change the topic of your conversation. 

Your friend turns back to catch a glance at you before he raises an eyebrow. He’s perfectly aware that you didn’t eat anything during the day and that you’re changing the topic of conversation because you don’t want him to get worrier. Since you’re sick, he’s not going to say anything.  

“The same as always,” he says while rolling his eyes. “Clients came, I made a bunch of tattoos and I barely had the time to work on some projects.”

This last year, he has gained tons of new clients and he’s busy tattooing them most of the day. Before, he used to find some time to work on projects, but now, he doesn’t have that time. 

“You should find a partner to help you out with the clients,” you propose. 

Jungkook has already considered it but he doesn’t want to hire someone just to have more free time. He wants someone that can truly help him with the shop and the rest, and he’s convinced that it’s not going to be easy. 

“I’m too picky and you know it,” he grabs a fry from the bag and eats it. 

“Then, don’t be,” you answer, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He rolls his eyes as he takes off the food from the bag and places it on your table. “I don’t want some shitty person to tattoo my clients. So, I'm going to be picky and you're going to support me.” 

You open a drawer, taking two sets of chopsticks with two spoons before putting them on the table. You both sit in front of the other. 

Your eyes get lost in his for a split minute. At first, he might seem the cold type of person. His body is covered with tattoos, his hair is pushed into a man-bun, his fingers are covered with rings and he has some earrings. But it’s just appearances. This man is the sweetest and most caring person you’ve ever met.

A lot of your friends asked you if something is going on between you and Jungkook but you have never seen the man in front of you as more than a friend. Even the thought of it never crossed your mind.   

“But it was a good day,” he says, looking down at his food before he eats some rice. “All the clients were super nice and there was even a cute girl.” 

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the cute girl he met today. Jungkook's love life is quite calm. He's not the type to fuck every girl he sees, he prefers to date, fall in love, and take the time to love. He's just the romantic type of guy. 

“Don't look at me like that, yn,” he says, pointing a chopstick at you. “You’re too curious.” 

He sighs in defeat knowing that no matter what he’s going to tell you everything, and that’s what he likes about your friendship. You understand and know each other so well even though you’ve been friends for only a year, but it feels like you’ve known the other for like an eternity.    

“I just want to know what happened,” you say with a big smile on your face.

“We just talked and she asked me to call her one day,” he notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “You should eat.” 

You take a bit of rice and eat it. Lately, it’s the only thing that you’ve been able to eat without throwing up. 

“And?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to call her?” 

Jungkook is hesitating. Yes, she’s cute and physically, she’s his type. But not too long ago, he was seeing a girl that just left him suddenly because she got back with her ex. He liked her quite a lot and he doesn’t feel ready to go back through all the date nights and the flirting things. 

“Don’t know yet,” he says nonchalantly. 

“You should call her, Kookie. You need to see somebody else other than me,” you tell him. 

“That’s not true, I see Namjoon and Yoongi,” you roll your eyes as he mentions his roommates. 

But Jungkook doesn’t spend too much time at his place with his roommates, he’s mostly with you because he loves to be around you, he loves how you make him feel. Oddly, you make him feel at home. He has never felt that with anybody else and he cherishes your friendship so much. 

His eyes linger on your left arm, smiling as he sees the reason that brought you two together. 

More than a year ago, you decided to get a tattoo and a friend advised you to go to Jungkook. You did some research about him and his work, reading a lot of opinions about him. After a while, you decided that he was the one, he was going to be the one who would do your first tattoo.

For Jungkook, you were just another client, nothing more. But you were kind of scared and nervous, and during the whole time, he was comforting you. It was the first time he was doing it. Usually, his clients hide their fears and put a brave smile on their faces. 

When you saw the lion on your arm, you were so proud and so thankful that he did it. It was just perfect, even better than you had pictured it. 

As he was doing it, he asked you why you chose to tattoo a lion. ‘The lion is known to be the strongest animal, and to me, this tattoo will represent my strength. It will remind me that no matter what life throws at me, I have to be strong.’ 

And he liked it. He liked how you’d look beyond the piece of art on your arm. He liked how he was not just tattooing a simple lion on an arm, he was tattooing your strength. After that, you naturally stayed in touch and you’re just happy to have met him.   

“And did you get any news from Minho?” 

Minho is a guy that you met some weeks ago and with whom you had a lot of fun. It was ephemeral but you had the time of your life with him. You don’t regret anything, you’re just sad that now, it’s over. 

You knew it was never going to last because you are both from two completely different worlds. You’re just a simple girl that barely manages to have some money at the end of the month while he’s one of the wealthiest men in the country. 

He's Park Minho, the son of the one and only Park Joonki. He has tons of holdings around the world and he controls basically everything in Korea. He’s truly very powerful, and the chances that you’d stay in a serious relationship with Minho were very low. 

“Nope, and I don’t think I’ll ever hear from him again.” 

“I thought he liked you a lot,” he says while eating. 

You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding. Jungkook was the first one to say to be careful with this kind of guy, and now, he’s kind of being nice to him. 

“He looked at you affectionately, but I just wanted you to be careful.” 

“In the end, we all knew this was just us having fun and nothing more,” you say. 

Even if you’re sad that it ended, you’re kind of grateful that it ended now. Otherwise, you know you would have started hoping for things, and the end of whatever you had with Minho would have been harder for you. 

“You truly deserve someone who loves you like all stars and the moon love nights.” 

A big and bright smile appears on your pale face, and Jungkook swears he has never seen anything prettier. Sometimes, he realizes that he looks at you like a man completely in love. Those moments are not very frequent but when they happen, they hit him hard and it’s very intense. 

You wonder if he knows the way his words make your heart stutter in your chest. But then you start to wonder why you’re even feeling such things for him, Jungkook is just your closest friend. But it's the first time that something touches you that much, not even your exes managed to make you feel that way. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you say, “and you deserve someone that loves you like Juliet loves Romeo.” 

Juliet and Romeo have a tragic love story, but they deeply loved each other. To you, Jungkook deserves to be loved with the same intensity. He deserves someone that would give his heart and soul to him because he’s the best human you’ve ever met. 

“That’s tragic,” he replies. 

You feel the urge to stand up and sit on his lap to caress his dark hair, but it would feel weird since he’s just your best friend. 

“Yes, but she truly and deeply loved him. That’s the love that you deserve.” 

His heart squeezes, and he looks away, feeling uncomfortable to glance straight into your eyes. He never thought that you’ll reply to his comment but he’s just happy you did.   

“Just reach out to that girl, okay?” 

Maybe she’s the one, maybe she’s the girl that Jungkook is meant to be with but he’ll never know it if he doesn’t call her. He raises his head up before nodding. 

“Now, eat. You’re scaring me with that pale face.” 

As he mentions your pale face, you remember the damn pregnancy test. But now isn’t probably the best moment to go and check out the result. You don’t want to worry Jungkook for silly things right now because you’re still convinced that you’re not pregnant. 

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” you say as you stand up and walk in the direction of the bathroom. 

As you enter the small room, you close the door behind you. Your heart is beating hard and fast. Although you think you’re not pregnant, you don’t know how you’ll react if it’s positive. 

You close your eyes and grab the test, your hands are shaking with nervousness. Even if you think that the result will be negative, the thought that it can be positive scares you, and that’s why you close your eyes. The truth is that you don’t even know if you want to open your eyes. 

What would happen if it is positive? What would you become if you’re indeed pregnant? Your life would completely change and you’re just not ready for that kind of change. Two years ago, you left your parents’ house because you wanted to pursue your dream of becoming a lawyer. Your career is on the rise, and a baby would completely ruin it. 

You most probably would have to come back to your parents’ house, and you’re not even sure if they will accept to help you. Having a baby out of a marriage and with someone that you’re not even dating would be seen as a shame for your family.      

Your heart is pounding more and more, it almost feels like it’s about to leave your chest. This simple test can completely change your life. 

“You need to see it, yn,” you whisper to yourself.  

You gather all the strength you have, wanting to know if your life will in fact change forever or if it’ll stay the same. Slowly, you open your eyes. The first thing you see is the reflection of your face in the mirror in front of you. What instantly catches your attention is how sick you look, no wonder that Jungkook seems worried. 

Your eyes gaze down at your fragile and shaking hands that are holding the pregnancy test. A loud cry leaves your mouth and tears roll down your face when you see the result.  

Jungkook runs to the bathroom as he hears you but you have completely locked yourself inside and he can’t open the door. He’s trying to get in because he needs to see you and understand what is going on.  

“Yn,” he says as he’s trying to open the door. “What happened?” 

Your hands let go of the test, making it fall on the ground, and your legs start shaking, barely being able to hold your body. The tears run faster down your face. 

The test is positive. Yongji was right, a human being is indeed growing inside of you. 

It feels like your entire world just collapsed under your feet and nothing could ever fix it. A baby is growing inside you, a human life has been created and that life will forever change your life. You’ll have to carry them for nine months and then, take care of them forever because they will depend entirely on you. 

The fact that you’re pregnant is more than a shock for you. You always took all the precautions for something like that to not happen. All the times you had sex with Minho, he was wearing a condom. You always made sure of it, at least, that's what you thought until today. 

Now, as your world is entirely falling apart, you remember one special night, a night that you had forgotten. Minho came to your apartment after a huge argument with his parents, he was really mad and you both drank a lot of wine. 

His parents wanted him to get back with Yeri and to marry her as soon as possible. Yeri, his ex, is the daughter of another powerful man in Korea. The union of both families will be the best thing. 

But Minho didn't want to be a puppet in his father's hands, he wanted to do things his own way. He wanted to marry the woman that he loves, it was not in his plans to marry just someone because his father craves more power. 

You drank for sure a lot that night and had sex on the couch. You were both so needy of each other, and you can’t remember if you used protection. However, it seems like it wasn’t the case. 

“Yn,” Jungkook calls you again, “open the door, please.” Hearing the concern in his voice breaks your heart. “Please, yn,” he begs, “I’m worried.” 

Jungkook rests his forehead against the door and he finally hears you sobbing and crying. It instantly shatters his heart. He wants to break the door to hold you tight in his arms. 

“My life is over,” you mumble as you cry. “Completely over.” 

He sits on the floor, his back against the door and he closes his eyes. He doesn’t understand what happened and why you suddenly say that.

“What happened?” he dares to ask. 

Your eyes now rest on the door before you sit on the floor and take a deep breath. To say that your life is completely over is an understatement for you. Your parents won’t ever accept you if you have a child without even being married, you’ll be the ugly duckling of the family. They’ll for sure reject you. 

How are you going to tell them that? You never introduced them to a single boy and now, you have to tell them that you’re pregnant with the wealthiest man in the country.  

“I am pregnant.” 

Jungkook is surprised. He knows how careful you are because your career has always been your priority, and having a baby right now was not on your plans. Plus, he knows how important it was for you to get married before having kids. 

“Minho?” he asks just to be sure. 

“Yes.” 

Your confirmation breaks his heart once again. Your friend knows that there’s no hope that Minho would help you with this. 

“Everything is over for me, Kook,” you cry even more now. “My parents will disgrace me, and Minho will never recognize this child as his because of his family.”        

The reality is hard to admit and it will be so hard to face this situation all by yourself. You’ll be completely alone in this and your baby will never know their families, they’ll just know you.

“I’ll be alone in this,” you add. 

You’re convinced your family will let you down because you’ll have a baby out of marriage. 

“No,” he replies straight away. “I’ll be by your side and I’ll never leave you.”

Even if you’re grateful for his presence, he can’t change the fact that it’s not going to be an easy thing.  

“It’s not the same, Kook,” you reply. 

Your friend is perfectly aware that he can’t ever replace the fact that Minho will never be present or that your family will most probably leave you. 

“Let me in, yn.” 

Right now, you just want to be alone in this bathroom for the rest of your life. 

“I want to hug you and comfort you.” 

After some seconds of hesitation, you finally open the door to fall in his arms. Nothing can comfort you at this moment, not even his strong arms holding you tight and pressing you against his body. Nothing. 

OCTOBER 6, 2018 

Yesterday, Jungkook stayed with you until you fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to leave you in this state, you were a mess and as your friend, he felt like it was his duty to be by your side. 

Jungkook didn’t sleep much during the night, thinking too much about your situation. He wants to help you as much as he can but he feels like there is nothing that he can do. He feels like the only thing he can do is to powerlessly watch your life fall completely apart. But that’s something he can’t accept.  

Someone knocks at your door, and without much willingness, you open it. To your surprise, it is Jungkook. You thought that he was going to leave you alone for a little while, giving you the time to adjust to your new reality. 

“Hi,” he says while entering your apartment. “I haven’t slept much and drank too much coffee before coming.” 

That explains why he looks tired and why his eyes are red. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you frown while you close the door. 

Jungkook finally turns and looks at you. You seem even worse than yesterday, which is totally understandable.

“I canceled all my appointments for the morning,” he replies and you look at him with worry. 

Why did he do that? He hates to do it. Even when he’s sick, he works because he hates to disappoint his clients. ‘There must be something really important that he needs to do,’ you thought.

You come closer to him, crossing your arms over your chest. His heart is pounding fast and now, he’s wondering if what he has in mind is actually a good idea.  

“I’ll be the father,” he quickly says, causing you to raise an eyebrow, not sure you understood what he just said. 

“What?” 

He takes a step in your direction, closing the space between the two of you. “Minho will never recognize your baby. His father will never let him do that, or he’ll make sure to make you disappear just to hide the mistake of his perfect son.” 

For that, you totally agree with him. Park Joonki will do everything in his power to hide you and your baby, and power is something that he has in abundance. 

“Your baby will grow up without a father figure, and I’ll be by your side as long as we live. I am your closest male friend and most probably, your baby will end up seeing me as their father.” 

For Jungkook, the chances that your baby ends up calling him ‘dad’ are very high. 

“Nobody needs to know that Minho is the biological father,” he says as he takes one of your hands in his. “And I think for your safety, it’s better if nobody knows.” 

You just can’t believe that he’s ready to do this for you. What kind of friend is he? A superhero? You don’t clearly know yet, but the simple fact that he wants to help and protect you just proves that he’s the best person you’ve ever met. 

“You know, I was actually thinking of hiding it from Minho and his super-powerful family,” you mention while caressing his hand. “It’ll be easier for everyone.” 

“No, yn, it’s not going to be easy for you,” he replies. “And for the baby.” 

You still can’t believe that inside of you a human being is growing and that one day, you’ll birth them. That same person will be a part of you and they’ll only exist thanks to you. It’s just incredible but it feels like it is just too much for you at the moment. 

“I can’t just let you take a role that is not yours,” you say to him. “I can’t let you be the father of a child that is not even biologically yours, and I won’t let you sacrifice your life because I was careless.” 

You just can’t accept this. Jungkook will have to put on hold his romantic life because he’ll be too busy to be the father of someone else’s baby. 

“I’m not sacrificing my life, yn,” he shakes his head. “I just can’t sit and watch your life fall apart. Minho will probably never accept to be the father of your baby, and we don’t know yet how your family will react. But I know one thing, no matter what, this situation will destroy you.” 

You close your eyes, trying to hold back some tears. This is already destroying you. You’re going to be a mother, a moment that is supposed to be the happiest one of your life, and yet, you’re losing everything because of it. 

“My love life is dead, and sometimes, I even wonder if girls look beyond my body. They just want to have sex with me because I look like a bad boy when it’s not what I am looking for in life,” he explains. “So, I’ll be the father of your baby for you.” 

“No, Jungkook,” you shake your head and turn your back to him. “I won’t let you sacrifice everything.” 

You feel his body pressed against yours, his head resting on your shoulder and his arms enveloping your body in his strong arms. 

“I am proposing this to you, I thought about it a lot and I am just ready to do it,” he murmurs in your ear. “I’ll do anything for you, yn.” 

Those last words send shivers down your spine. 

“But I’ll give you some time to think about it, and when you’ll feel ready, you’ll just give me an answer,” he whispers and you nod. 

You stay in each other's arms for a while, enjoying the presence of the other. 

If you accept his proposition, you know that Jungkook will be an excellent father. He’s just so carrying and loving, and having him as their father will for sure be a good thing. But there is no need to recognize them as his child. No matter what you decide, he’ll be the father figure of your baby. 

OCTOBER 13, 2018

A week passed since Jungkook proposed to you that weird idea. 

You’ve come back to work, trying to keep your mind busy and to not think only about your pregnancy. At the moment, nobody knows that you’re pregnant. You just don’t know what to do, you’re just too lost. You decided that until you haven’t decided yet what to do with Jungkook’s proposition, you won’t tell anything to anyone. 

Not even Yongji is aware of the fact that she was right all along. 

When you enter the restaurant, you see your friend sitting at a table alone, and you join him. A bright smile stretches across his lips as he sees you coming. For the first time in a week, you’re smiling. A smile that only Jungkook can bring out. 

You haven’t seen him in a week because you didn’t want his presence to influence your decision. You knew that his big doe eyes would influence you or even his presence. With him, you always feel safe and happy. He’d make you say ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.  

But it feels good to see him after all this time. Life felt empty without him by your side and time seemed to move slowly. You missed him, more than a lot.   

He quickly stands up and he pushes back the chair in front of him so that you can take a seat. “Hi, yn!”  

As your eyes linger on him, you notice how his dark long hair is partially pushed back, revealing his undercut, and he’s wearing a white cotton shirt instead of his usual sweaters. It’s a slightly see-through shirt as some of his tattoos can be seen, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s wearing it on purpose. Is he teasing you? 

You swipe that thought away, you’re convinced that Jungkook only loves you like a friend and that he wouldn’t do such a thing.   

“Hello, Kook.” 

Being now in front of him, you can smell his strong perfume. Y Eau de Parfum from Yves Saint-Laurent. You offered him that perfume some time ago, and since then, he has been putting it but only on special events. 

Knowing it makes you feel special. So special. 

You take a seat, your smile never fading away. The knuckles of his fingers brush against your back, giving you goosebumps. This is for sure new for you, never have you felt that with Jungkook. 

Quickly, he walks to his chair and sits in front of you. Although your bodies are still a bit far from the other, his knees skim yours, giving you more goosebumps.     

“Wow, you look all good!” you say with a bright smile on your face. 

“You look even better,” he licks his lips as his eyes look down on you. 

From the moment you entered that restaurant, Jungkook couldn’t keep his eyes off you.  

Since you were going out with your best friend, you decided to put on a beige dress with long sleeves. It’s a beautiful dress that you use quite often when you go out and you know Jungkook likes it. That’s actually the reason you’re wearing it. It’s cold outside, at this time of the year, it’s always too cold, and so, you’re also wearing long boots. 

From the outside, it really looks like you’re both on a date while you’re just going to decide about the future of your baby.  

“Why a restaurant?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Yesterday, you asked him if it’d be possible to meet tonight at a restaurant. Usually, you both don’t go out alone, there is also someone else but you simply want to get out of your apartment for just a moment. 

“Just wanted to be out of my apartment.” 

His eyes are filled with a lot of brightness, it’s like they are sparkling, and you feel something inside you that you can’t quite explain. It’s like it is the first time that you’re seeing your friend, and this feeling inside you is something you have never felt around him.   

Actually, you felt it with Minho but this is stronger. So much stronger. 

Jungkook can’t help but find you super attractive, and to him, you’re glowing like never before. He’s wondering if it’s related to your pregnancy or if you’ve always been shining but he never noticed it. 

“Let’s take a look at the menu,” you suggest, trying to look away from him, and he nods. His eyes on you are making you uncomfortable and it makes you wonder what you need to do. You take the menu and read what this restaurant has to offer. 

After your proposal to go out, Jungkook offered to come here, one of his favorite places. This is the first time you’re coming to this restaurant.     

A couple of minutes later, a waiter arrives at your table and asks what you’re going to take. It’s an Italian restaurant and a lasagna is the meal that you choose, you haven’t eaten one in ages. 

When the waiter leaves, you focus again on your friend. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your proposition, and I’ve made up my mind.” 

He just nods, encouraging you to keep talking. He doesn’t want to interrupt you, scared that you’ll change your mind in the middle. 

“I think you’re right,” you bite the inside of your cheek, you’re a bit nervous. “No matter what, you’ll be around and for sure, you’ll be the father figure of the baby. For sure, Minho will never be around, his family will never let him recognize a child he had with some random girl.” 

There is no need to be a genius to know that. However, Jungkook was the first one to understand that. 

“Having you as their legal father will be helpful for everything.”  

The man in front of you listens carefully but a feeling of happiness grows inside him. In some way, he kind of expected that you’d accept his proposition but he was skeptical. 

“But in the future, I don’t want to hide it to our child.” 

This last week, you realize that it’s better if your baby is in fact recognize as Jungkook’s child. Not only would they grow up with a father but if something happens, he’ll be able to make decisions without you being there. You don’t even doubt that he’d take the right decisions, no matter what. 

But if your baby grows up thinking that Jungkook is their biological father, it would eventually end up bad. They need to know that they have a biological father that is not the same as their actual father. 

“I don’t want secrets between the three of us.” 

For Jungkook, it’s totally understandable. He can imagine the shock someone can feel when they found out years later that the man that raised them is not their biological father. Telling the truth as soon as possible is for sure the best decision. 

However, he’s delighted that you accepted his proposition, and he’s more than happy to become a father. All he wants to do right now is jump off happiness and scream to the world that he’ll become a father. 

It’s something he has desired his entire life. Since a very young age, he dreamed of having two kids, a boy, and a girl but he always thought that he’d found the love of his life before. He never imagined that his love life would become a disaster as it is right now. The lack of luck on that field made him give up on his dream. 

Now, you’re changing everything.  

“I will of course say to everyone that you’re the father, I won’t ever mention Minho to anyone.” 

If you hide Minho from everyone, they’ll never know that he’s the biological father of the child you’re carrying. Nobody will raise questions and it’s a lot better like that. 

“I don’t know what the future holds but I’ll forever be thankful that you’ll take on the role of Minho.” 

During this past week, you tried to contact Minho a couple of times but you never heard anything from him. His family is most probably managing to convince him to do whatever they want or he just simply doesn’t want to speak with you anymore. 

And it just breaks your heart because you wanted to tell him that you’re pregnant with his child. You wanted to tell him that he’s going to be a father. But you know that most probably he’ll never find out about your baby’s existence. 

“As I told you, I’ll do anything for you, yn,” he replies with a small grin. “And now, that includes the small human growing in your womb.” 

You reach for his hand and hold it tight, the warmth of his hand on yours is pleasurable. You feel the urge to caress the top of his hand with his thumb. Your eyes get lost in his gaze, and never before have you felt this good.

You owe everything to the man in front of you. Without any doubt, you know that life will be much easier with him by your side. You won’t be scared of the future because he’ll help you deal with whatever may happen to your baby. A baby that is now his. 

“Our baby,” you mumble. 

Hearing you say that makes it feel real. Jungkook realizes that he’s really going to be a father. You will forever be linked to your closest friend. It doesn’t scare you at all because you know that he’ll be the best father for your baby, even better than Minho. 

“Our baby,” he repeats with a big and bright smile on his face. 

The fact that you’re pregnant is something that still feels unreal. You guess that you’ll only realize it when your baby bump will start growing or maybe when you’ll see your baby for the first time on an ultrasound. 

The dinner went well and you’re both super happy, looking forward to seeing what the future holds for both of you. 

You just left the restaurant, walking now to your apartment that isn’t really far but Jungkook wants to be sure that you safely arrive at your place. Now, he has to take care of you and your baby. Things have changed and he doesn't want something bad to happen to you.  

As you're walking, your bodies are very close, his hand brushing against yours, and you’re just dying to hold it and intertwine your fingers with his. During the entire dinner, you were just craving his touch, wanting his warmth to embrace your body, and never before it has happened. 

“You really don't have to take me home.” 

Jungkook stops, looking at you. “I want to be sure nothing happens to you on your way home.” 

You can't help but smile at his words. Tonight, the simple fact that he takes you home warms your heart although you’re perfectly aware that he would have done it any other day or with anybody. Jungkook has always been such a gentleman. 

“I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby,” his dark eyes glare down on your body, halting at your stomach, and his right-hand grabs your left one, stroking your hand with his thumb. 

“For sure, nothing will happen to me or our baby with you.” 

You lean closer and press a soft kiss on his cheek. Both of you feel butterflies down your stomach as your lips touch his skin, and even when your lips leave the skin of his cheek, he still senses them. His dark orbs are totally hypnotized by your sweet face. 

In the dark of the night, your face sparkles, and the smile that starts to appear lights your face even more. Jungkook wants to take a picture of your face right now and spend the rest of his life looking at it, remembering just how twinkling you are right now.   

You take the opportunity that his hand is holding yours to intertwine your fingers before you start walking again, still with a bright smile on your face. 

Since you found out that you were pregnant, it’s actually the first time that you’re happy about it, and it’s all thanks to Jungkook. Seeing you this happy delights him. He just can't wait to see your womb swell but he's even more impatient to meet the baby. 

You quickly arrive home. Once in front of the building, you stop but still keep your fingers entwined. You look at each other and you feel like you're sixteen again. It's like you're with your crush for the first time although Jungkook is just your close friend. However, now the father of your child.

“I just don’t know what to say to you,” you sincerely say to him. “You are the father of my baby just because you don't want my life to fall apart and I don't think somebody else will ever do that to me.” 

You perfectly know that nobody else would have proposed to be the father of your baby just to protect you from the biological father’s family. Somebody else would have maybe never thought about it. 

Jungkook's eyes look down at you and his free hand caresses your cheek. 

“As I’ve been saying, I’ll do anything for you without any hesitation.” 

As you look up at him, you’re aware that you are both looking at the other differently, making you wonder if you always have felt something more than just friendship for him but never noticed it.  

Your hand leaves his and holds his waist tight as you crash your body against his, your head falling against his chest. The silence of the night is quickly replaced by the sound of his heartbeat pounding fast under his broad chest.

To say that you're thankful is an understatement. You don't know what could have happened if he had never suggested being the father. Most probably your family would have been ashamed of you, Minho's father would have given you money to abort or would have done everything to hide you, and you’d be alone, crying for being stupid enough to get yourself knocked up. 

“I am so thankful to have met you,” he whispers in your ear. “My life was so bland before you.” 

Your arms tighten even more around his waist, loving every word he said. Jungkook smiles, thinking that he must look like a total idiot right now. 

“Let’s get inside,” you say to him, “it’s too cold.” 

He nods before you both head to the building. You take the stairs as you live on the first floor, it's faster than using the elevator. You open the door and let Jungkook enter. 

“Do you want to drink something?” you ask him as you take your coat off.  

Jungkook stays at your apartment’s entrance, not moving at all. His eyes are on you as you turn the lights on and ask him if he wants to drink.

You’re beautiful in every way to him. The dress you’re wearing embraces your body perfectly, letting him see how imperfectly perfect your body is. It’s not the first time that he’s checking you out but this time, it’s different. You’re not just his friend anymore. You’re the mother of his unborn child. 

Jungkook realizes that he’s looking at you like he’s in love with you. He’s even wondering if the small glass of wine that he drank at the restaurant is causing this all. Without the wine would he be looking at you like that? 

“No, thanks,” he answers, shaking his head. “I think I drank too much already.” 

A small chuckle leaves your throat, thinking about the only glass of wine he took. Jungkook usually drinks way more than just a glass, you have already got drunk together after a miserable day. You can tell that he’s totally sober right now. 

“What makes you giggle?” he cocks a brow. 

“It was just a glass,” you answer with a smile on your face. “That was literally nothing for you.” 

He rolls his eyes, a smile appearing on his face. 

“You don’t even know if I drank something before seeing you.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow. You’re not convinced at all by his little lie. 

“I’ve already seen you completely drunk, Kook,” you say. “I know what you look like when you drink too much.” 

“You’re annoying, yn.”  

“But you love me,” you’re still smiling at him before hugging him again. It feels good to be in his strong arms, more than good actually. 

Jungkook is also liking it a lot but before things get out of control, he just takes a step back. He’s scared to do or say something that he’ll regret. Right now, happiness is taking control of his body but he has to be careful. This feeling is maybe just temporary.   

“Maybe, I should get going,” he says. 

“No, don’t go,” you pout. 

You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay and hold you in his strong arms, feeling his warm body against yours. You have never craved so much his touch as you do right now, and it scares you a lot. 

This is new to you, wondering if it is real. You’re pregnant, your hormones are most probably all over the place and the man in front of you is going to be the father of your child. All those elements can cloud your judgment at the moment.  

“Stay just a little bit more,” you add. 

Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest before your little hands rest on his forearms. Your big eyes can’t stop looking into his, waiting for an answer. To him, it’s like you’re a small kid begging their parents to let them do whatever they want. But you’re just extremely adorable. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” 

He hates the power you have over him, you don’t have to do much to have him wrapped around your finger. He won’t say ‘no’ to anything you’ll ask.  

“You know I’ll give you what you want.” 

A smile appears on your face. 

“Can we watch a movie?” 

He nods before taking his jacket off and putting it on the coat hanger. You grab his hand, guiding him through your small apartment to get to the living room.  

“I’ll let you choose the movie while I’ll get us some snacks and drinks.” 

You disappear into your kitchen while Jungkook sits on your couch to choose the movie. You’ve already seen so many movies together that it feels like you have already seen all of them. 

Quickly you come back with some biscuits and drinks. He notices that you didn’t bring him any beer or alcohol which he's thankful for. He’s way too scared of what he could do with alcohol. You put everything on the coffee table, Jungkook’s eyes watching every one of your moves. You take a seat next to him, getting comfortable by his side.

“I choose some random shit that we haven’t seen yet,” he informs you. 

The movie that he chose isn’t important to you, all you care about is to spend more time with your baby daddy. This attraction you’re feeling for your friend is getting to be more obvious to you. You crave more, and you simply can’t deny it.  

Jungkook slowly comprehends that right now he’s loving you way more than a friend. The entire night, he was having doubts about it but feeling you sitting next to him gives him the time to realize things. 

The way he’s dressed is all for you and to get your attention. He never wore a see-through shirt because he knew that his dates would start flirting too much just to get laid, which was something he didn’t want. But wearing it tonight was like a sign from his subconscious, telling him that he didn’t actually mind getting laid. 

Nonetheless, you’re also wearing his favorite dress. A clear sign that he didn’t miss. He can’t help but think that you know what you were going to do to him. Jungkook isn’t wrong at all. At any other moment, you wouldn’t have put that dress on. Deep down, all you were hoping was to ruin the friendship.  

You’re sitting close to him, your leg pressed against his, and both of you try as hard as possible to focus on the movie. But neither of you can’t stop glancing at the other. 

Nevertheless, it seems that fate desires to bring you together, and the two characters of the movie start to make out heavily. Jungkook's face instantly heats up, completely embarrassed while your body completely freezes. That was for sure something unexpected, especially when you’re realising that you’re probably having a massive crush on the man sitting next to you. 

A piece of slow and romantic music plays in the background of the kissing scene. This only puts you both into the mood of the scene. The tension between you and Jungkook is heavily growing. 

The two of you ignore what to do as you’re both embarrassed by the way your bodies are reacting to a simple kissing scene. You’re just thankful that it’s not a sex scene otherwise you’d be hiding under the couch, ashamed to be completely turned on. 

This is becoming harder to handle as it becomes obvious that this scene is turning you on. You rub your thighs together, craving his touch more and more. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. Jungkook’s body is as tense as yours, you perfectly understand that he’s in the same state as you. 

“Kook,” your voice is barely audible but he hears you and finally looks at you. The first thing he sees is how desperate you are for him. 

“Yn,” he whispers as he closes his eyes for a few seconds. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

The movie is completely forgotten. There are just the two of you and nothing else. The tension between you two is at its highest and what’s going to follow next will only depend on the two of you. Are you going to give in or not? Are you going to ruin your friendship? 

“I can’t, JK.” 

Your heart is pounding hard, ready to burst at any minute. Jungkook’s eyes go from your eyes down to your lips, resting a little too much on them. He’s wondering what they feel like and the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to taste them.  

To you, it is more than evident that he wants to kiss you. So, you decide to be the boldest one, leaning closer to him, and he knows what’s coming, swallowing hard and biting his lower lip. He desperately wants it so he doesn’t move at all as you lean closer. 

However, for Jungkook, you’re moving too slow and he decides to close the gap for you, his lips finally meeting yours for a fervent kiss. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you while he kisses you like a desperate man. It simply feels like you’ve never kissed somebody before.   

The kiss is so passionate and deep. Jungkook's lips are soft against yours like he is scared to break you as he kisses you. But they feel good on yours, it’s as if they were meant to kiss you. 

As you’re kissing him with love and passion, you realize that since day one Jungkook was more than just a friend. There has always been a connection so strong between you that definitely was more than friendship but you always ignored it. The spark between you was slowly growing stronger and stronger until the moment it would inevitably blow up. That moment is happening right now. It just completely exploded unexpectedly, and god, it’s just so pleasurable.   

Jungkook pulls you onto his lap as he craves to feel more friction. That action lifts your dress up, revealing the skin of your legs. He’s craving to feel you in every possible way and bringing your body this close is completely driving him crazy. Both of you are panting hard but it clearly doesn’t matter. 

You keep wanting more and more.

As you break the kiss, you quickly unbutton his shirt, to reveal his bare skin to your eyes. You enjoy the view, his tattoos in the full display just for you. It’s not the first time you’re seeing his chest and tattoos, but it’s the first time that you’re looking at his body with lust. 

You instantly touch his covered tattooed skin. He has quite a lot of tattoos but there are still some uncovered parts. The ink on his body adds a lot of sensuality to him, and now, it becomes quite clear why all those girls are always so needy around him. He looks like a bad boy, but it’s one with the biggest heart you’ve ever met. 

Jungkook shivers from the feeling of your fingertips brushing against his skin. You press your lips against his, needing to be completely intoxicated by him. He licks your bottom lip before he grips it with his teeth, making you moan. As he hears your sweet moan, his dick twitches inside his pants and he’s growing harder underneath you. 

You open your mouth, Jungkook seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, finally meeting yours. You moan at the feeling, and unintentionally, he flexes his toned thigh. You feel it in all the right places, making your pussy clench around nothing and it makes you moan again. 

This unintentional action ends up being a good thing and he can’t help but smirk. His hands go down on your exposed thighs to caress them. Your skin is soft under his palms and his hands feel huge on your body.  

Before doing anything else, he pulls one of his legs out from under you in order for you to adjust yourself on his thigh. Your dress is pushed even higher, Jungkook has now a proper view of your black panties, and your clothed pussy is brushing now against his dark pants. 

Both of you know where this is going but none of you wants to stop it. You’re getting addicted to the other more and more and the thought of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, yn,” hegroans when you start moving your hips against his thigh.  

He presses his lips on yours for a filthy kiss, his tongue passing past your lips and licking against your own. This feels more than good, everything about you is addictive, and Jungkook wants to have sex with you. 

This is totally unusual for him but all this situation is different. You’re not just a flirt that he met some days or weeks ago, you’ve been his closest friend for more than a year. He doesn’t doubt that beyond the physical attraction you love him for who he is. 

As his tongue plays with yours on your mouth, his hands find their way to your waist and guide your hips as you’re straddling his thigh. A small moan leaves your lips but the man in front of you swallows it directly. He pushes his thigh firmly against your clothed pussy and flexes the muscle once more. 

“I like how you’re riding my thigh, butterfly,” he whispers against your lips. “But I want to feel you properly.”  

One of his hands slides down on your body and tugs aside the fabric of your panties until your clit is directly pressed against his thigh. A breath falls from your lips as you drag your pussy against his thigh.  

Jungkook pulls you firmly against his flexed muscle, and once his hands are back on your waist, he quickens the pace of your hips. A trail of moans leaves your mouth, loving the friction of his pants against your pussy. 

“I love to hear you moan, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

He just knows what to say and when to do it. He loves to be in charge, that’s obvious and that is a surprising thing for you. You never thought Jungkook would be this type of man. He looks so gentle and adorable all the time that you thought that he’d be the sub type. 

His length is getting harder and tighter on his pants, he needs to do something about it otherwise he’ll explode completely. 

“I will touch myself as you keep riding my thigh,” Jungkook says with evident desperation in his voice. 

Before you can even process what he said, he inserts two fingers in your mouth, and with his other hand, he lowers his underwear, allowing his cock to slap against his lower stomach. His cock takes your breath away, standing proud in between your bodies. He’s a bit thick, but not too much though, and as well long but again not too long. It’s clearly not how you pictured the crotch of your friend. This sight alone gets you wetter.    

You suck on his finger, coating them with your saliva, and that alone snatches a groan out of his pretty swollen lips. A proud smile appears on your face. When he feels that they are soaked enough, he pulls them from your mouth. His fingers hold his cock, covering it with your saliva as they go up and down the length. 

“Damn,” he mumbles, his head slowly going back at the feeling of his fingers on his length and your clit rubbing against him. “You’re doing this so well, butterfly,” he comments. 

The little butterfly nickname brings actual butterflies in your lower stomach. It’s such an adorable nickname even though it’s said in the middle of a naughty time. 

You bite your bottom lip as you stare deep into his eyes. The intimacy of the eye contact with the friction against your clit makes the wave of pleasure grow intensely inside you, and for sure, you won’t last long before that wave hits you hard.  

“Pleasuring yourself on my thigh while I touch myself,” he growls as his hand keeps pumping his cock. “It’s too hot, butterfly.”  

Jungkook runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and grips his bottom lip between his teeth. He strokes his cock at the same pace at which your hips are working on his thigh, and he also feels like he’s about to cum on his hand. 

“Fuck, butterfly,” he growls as he looks down to watch your throbbing pussy rubbing against his thigh, “you’re doing this perfectly.” 

You put your hand on his shoulder and circle your pussy faster against his thigh. You’re so close. 

“Kook,” you say and his gaze meets yours once again, “I’m so close!” 

The hand resting on your waist goes down and his thumb circles on your clit. It sends you over the edge, the wave of pleasure hitting you violently and you feel your orgasm in every part of your body. A guttural moan leaves your mouth and you close your eyes to enjoy the feeling.  

The sight of you coming undone makes him come, a deep groan coming from his throat as cum flows on his hand. 

You hide your face on the crook of his neck, completely surprised that you gave in to temptation. Nobody says anything, you’re just both trying to catch your breath and you close your eyes. 

Slowly, you fall asleep in his arms, exhausted from what happened. Jungkook senses it but doesn’t say anything as he enjoys having you in his arms. 

As you’re falling deeper, he moves a bit and you groan a bit. “I’m just putting back my pants, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear.  

He does it quickly to not disturb you more. “I’ll put you in your bed, you’ll be better.” 

“No,” you mumble half-awake, “I want to stay in your arms.” 

He stands up, holding you tight in his arms. You mumble some words that he doesn’t understand, making him chuckle. Once in your bedroom, he carefully places you in your bed before laying next to you. He crawls to you, holding you again in his arms.       

OCTOBER 15, 2018

For the past two days, Jungkook has been living in your place, only leaving you to go to work. Having him around you all the time has been helping you to embrace and accept this pregnancy even more.  

The first appointment with the obstetrician has already been taken and you’re super excited to discover your baby. But most importantly, you want to know if nothing is wrong with them, their health is what worries you the most. 

You don’t know exactly how far you’re on this pregnancy, and in the past weeks, there has been some alcohol consumption. That is leaving you wondering if it affected their growth and you just want to be sure that the baby is in fact good health.     

Although everything seems to be fine, you and Jungkook haven’t spoken about what happened two days ago. Indeed, just the thought of what happened makes you a bit uncomfortable. But you need to speak about it, you’re going to be parents and you can’t just ignore the feelings you have. 

“Kook?” you say as you sit in front of him at the wooden table of the kitchen. 

As usual, he’s wearing a large shirt with some training pants but his hair isn’t pushed into a man-bun as he has been doing it quite a lot lately. This simple outfit gives him some sexiness, and you know that in a long term, you won’t be able to resist his natural charm.  

“Mmm,” he says looking at you. 

“Can we speak about what happened two days ago?” 

You’re scared that if you don’t bring the conversation up, he would never do it. When it comes to feelings, Jungkook is always the first one to hide which means that you have to be the bravest one. 

The man in front of you swallows hard when he hears your question. Of course, he prefers to avoid the subject since he’s a bit ashamed of what happened. But he knows how important it is to communicate.    

“We really need to, JK,” you can see in his eyes that he’s not comfortable. “We are going to have a baby, and being scared of speaking about certain topics is clearly not the best thing to do.”

“I know, yn,” he answers. “I’m just ashamed of how needy I was for you.” 

You decide to stand up, walking to him, and sitting in his lap. Your fingers brush his long hair, that part of him is one of your weaknesses. You never thought you’d be into long-haired men but here you are, loving Jungkook’s long hair. 

As you sit on his lap, he remembers how well you made him feel when you were riding his thigh.   

“Don’t be ashamed,” your eyes look into his dark orbs. “We both wanted it.” 

One of your hands goes down on his face to caress his soft skin. 

“I never expected to feel more than friendship for you, JK. Never,” his eyes never leave yours, scared that if he closes his eyes, you’ll disappear. “But I liked everything I felt that day and how you made me feel.” 

His heart is slowly starting to pound fast.  

“Nobody made me feel the way you did, and I was only riding your thigh.” 

You don’t even want to imagine how he could make you feel with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“I want to feel that every day, Jungkook.” 

You’re not ashamed to tell him that you desire more. More of his lips on you, more of his hands on your body, more of his touch. More of him. You want to get addicted again and again until all your mind can think of is him.  

“You know that if we do that again, we can’t be just friends anymore.” 

That limit seems to have already been exceeded. It happened the moment you found out you were pregnant and he proposed to be the father. That gesture proved that he’d go beyond everything to protect you. 

“We already ruin our friendship,” you slightly push some of his hair back. “We stopped being friends the moment we decided to kiss each other.” 

His eyes go down to your lips, remembering the way they were kissing him two nights ago. It felt like entering heaven. Since that night, he can’t stop thinking of your lips on his. 

“Be my boyfriend, Jungkook,” you tell him. “Don’t be just my baby’s daddy.”    

It’s the first time a girl asks him to date her, but the boldness of your suggestion doesn’t even surprise him. Between the two of you, you’ve always been the boldest, and he has always liked it.  

He wants to be more than just your friend and experienced love with you. God, there are so many things that have crossed his mind after that night and in all of them, you were his girlfriend.  

“You know you already have me wrapped around your finger,” his hands slide down to your waist, bringing you closer to him and holding you firmly against his hips. You can feel his bulge just under your core, and he’s not even hard.   

Jungkook hates when he’s not in control, but with you, most of the time, you’re the one in charge. He’ll do whatever you want him to do. 

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” he adds. “If you want me to be your sex friend, I’ll be it and if you want more, I’ll give you more.” 

Without any second thoughts, you kiss him with passion. You want him to be more than just a partner with whom you have fun. The love you both feel for each other is just too strong. 

“I want to be your girlfriend, Jungkook,” you whisper on his lips. “I want to give you all the love you deserve.” Your thumb caresses his cheek. “You deserve the love of Juliet.” 

A smile spreads across his face, remembering the time you told him that he deserves to be loved like Juliet loved Romeo. Although it was a tragic love story, he wants to know a love as strong as that one.   

“And you deserve the love of all the stars and the moon.” 

Jungkook kisses you once again. This is something he never expected, to start dating you the moment he becomes a father. 

JANUARY 17, 2019

For the past three months, a lot has changed. 

Jungkook has moved on to your place because everything will be easier if you live in the same apartment. Since he was sharing his with Namjoon and Yoongi, it was evident that you were not going to live with him and his roommates. 

Your relationship is slowly getting stronger as days pass. Not much has changed. You spend more time together now and kiss a lot. There’s a lot of oral sex but no penetrative sex yet. There isn’t any real reason behind it, you’re just comfortable with the oral sex at the moment and you know that there will be more when you’ll feel ready. 

To everyone, you have both announced that you were going to have a baby together. The reactions were overall positives. Both of your parents were more than happy and excited to become grandparents. Your parents were a bit tougher because you’re not married, but they still accept it since you’re together. But your mother, as well as his, started to cry as they realized that their babies were going to have a baby.  

Your siblings were just thrilled to have a niece or nephew tin the way. The feeling was shared by your friends, some were just surprised that you were having a kid when you used to describe each other as just friends. 

Yongji was the one that was a bit more skeptical at first, not truly believing it but you managed to convince her. This little secret, you just want to keep it between the two of you for the moment. You have to admit that you were scared of her reaction. What would she say? Would she still support you if she knows? And as selfish as it sounds, you want to have your best friend by your side during all your pregnancy.     

Nobody knows or even suspects that Minho is the biological father of the baby you’re carrying. And it’s better like that, especially since the Park family announced publicly that Minho is going to marry Yeri in July. 

You still keep trying to contact him but less than at the beginning. It’s clear now that he’s never going to reach out for you, he’s back with Yeri and he will start a family with her. You’re convinced that this was all meant to be. Minho will never know that he got you pregnant and that he created a human being with you. 

“Can I help you?”  

You finished work a bit earlier today, there wasn’t much work to do today and you decided that it’d be the perfect occasion to visit Jungkook’s store. 

The man in front of you asking if he can help you must be the new partner of your boyfriend.  

Last month, he decided to listen to you and found a partner to help him out. Of course, he was picky, and it took him a little while to find the perfect partner. Ironically, his partner is named Park Jimin. 

Jungkook has been praising him a lot, and you’re more than happy to see that this partnership is working perfectly. There are even more clients now but your boyfriend finds more time to work on his personal projects. 

“I am here for Jungkook,” you say with a smile on your face. 

“Do you have any appointment?” he asks politely. 

“No, I am his girlfriend.” 

“Oh, sorry,” Jimin says before bowing to you. “I didn’t know.” 

“Don’t worr,” you still smile at him.

“He’s still working but he should be almost over.” 

You nod before thanking him for the information. He proposes to you something to drink or to eat but you politely decline. You’ve already eaten a lot today, this crazy baby has been giving you the wildest cravings and you know that if you start eating now, you won’t be able to stop. 

Your stomach is slightly swollen but with all the layers of clothes you’re wearing, it’s not even noticeable. Your baby has been growing a lot lately which leads to your stomach swelling a lot too. You’re certain that in some days, even with all the clothes you put to protect yourself from the cold weather, you won't be able to hide your baby bump anymore. 

You were about to take a seat in one of the chairs in the entrance when a man comes from behind with Jungkook following him. The man checks you out quickly but your boyfriend notices it and by the way his jaw clenches, you bet that he doesn’t like it. 

Another young lady enters, and Jimin takes care of her while the man pays for what Jungkook did on his body before leaving the store. Jimin disappears behind with the girl, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. 

His hair is pushed back into a man-bun, a large grey shirt covering his toned torso while ripped blue skinny jeans cover his long legs. This view is more than mouthwatering. This hot man standing in front of you is all yours. 

“Hi, butterfly,” he finally breaks the silence between the two of you. 

“Hi,” you smile at him. Watching him like that, all you want to do is make love with him until you forget your own name. 

Jungkook walks closer to you, offering you a soft smile. “I was not expecting you,” his thumb finds its way to your cheek, caressing it like you’re made of glass. 

“I wanted to surprise you.”    

Jungkook leans his face closer to yours, his breath brushing your skin. “It’s definitely a good surprise, butterfly,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your boyfriend is a master in teasing and turning you on with a few words. He can literally say “car” and it’ll turn you on. You don’t know how he does it but what’s sure is that he’s a master in making you weak. 

Pulling back a little, he stares into your eyes before pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is filled with heat and passion and you already know where this is going. The only problem is that you’re in his store and all the passers-by can see the two of you. 

“I have twenty minutes before my next client,” he says on your lips. “We could make good use of those twenty minutes,” he suggests before taking your hand and guiding you to the back of his shop. 

You enter his private room, the one where he works on his personal projects and where he eats during his small breaks. There is a couch on the left corner, a small table with two chairs, and a fridge on the right corner. It’s a small room but he doesn’t need much more. 

Jungkook closes the door so nobody can come in and disturb you for the next few minutes. There’s music playing in the room. Often from The Weeknd. The song sets the mood clearly.  

Your lips meet once again for a languid kiss. You want him so much, and you desire so much more than just his tongue and fingers.   

You want him to insert himself inside you. 

“I want you, Kook,” you whisper in between kisses. 

He breaks the kiss before looking at you. “Take your jacket and pants off.” 

You don’t have much time to have sex, and it’s better if you start undressing. So, Jungkook takes his clothes off quickly while you undress too. You struggle a bit more since you’re carrying a little human inside your body. 

He opens one drawer from the little furniture next to the couch, taking a condom from it. The sight of the condom surprised you.  

“Why do you have a condom here?” you ask while frowning. You’re half-naked and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I kind of hoped that one day you’d come and we’d get laid here.” 

This little confession from your boyfriend is surprising. So, all this time he was dreaming of having sex with you on that couch and never said anything to you. 

“You’re very surprising when it comes to sex,” you admit. 

“Everybody has their own little fantasies,” he replies back. 

“But why are you even taking a condom?” you ask him, a bit confused. 

You’re pregnant, and the condom is completely useless. You are both healthy, nothing can happen if he penetrates you. 

“We don’t want you to get pregnant while pregnant,” he answers. 

His answer makes you giggle, and he arches a brow while tilting his head as he does not understand what is making you giggle. 

“I can’t get pregnant while being pregnant, babe,” you tell him. 

“I read some articles that it can happen.” 

Jungkook has been deeply involved in this pregnancy. He clearly doesn’t want to just give his name to your baby to protect you, he wants to be the best partner for you and father for the baby. He has been reading a lot of pregnancy books, and he even chats with some other dads on blogs. 

When you found out that some weeks ago, you felt lucky. Lucky to share this with him and to have him by your side. You know he’ll never let you down, and even if the worst happened, he’d give his best to be the father your child deserves. 

“The chances are very low, babe.” 

This is for sure a question you’ll ask your obstetrician on your next appointment. However, you strongly believe that it would never happen. 

“But there’s a risk and I don’t want to take it.” 

He’ll gladly make love to you without a condom but he knows how hard it will be for you if you get pregnant while being pregnant. He sees how sometimes it is hard for you with just one baby, and if he could, he’d be the one carrying the baby. 

But the reality is different, and your body is the one bearing his child. So, he’ll do anything and everything to make your life easier. And wearing a condom will for sure make it easier.    

“Now, take your shirt off, I want to see your swollen stomach.” 

Since your stomach started to show, Jungkook adores to see it. Not only does he speak with the baby but he also caresses it. He wants to connect with his child before they arrive. He wants them to recognize him. For him, it’s the way to get really involved. However, he has also developed some sort of weird kink. He also likes to see your belly when you have sexual interactions. 

You do as he says, revealing your upper body to him. Your boyfriend stares at your body, the prettiest one he has ever seen. The fact that you’re bearing his baby makes you even more marvelous to him.      

“You’re so wonderful, butterfly.”  

Your boyfriend guides both your bodies to the couch, sitting on the couch while you sit astride him, your ass pressed against his length and letting your legs rest on either side of his body. Your stomach is pressed against his, and he loves the feeling. 

His lips find yours for another passionate kiss, your hands cupping his adorable cheeks while his hands go down on your body, caressing every inch of you. 

His lips break the kiss. “I didn’t like the way the client checked you out.” 

His little jealousy is something that you find very cute because it’s little. Sometimes, he just says some things like that and you can’t help but find it adorable. 

“I could say the same about all the girls that check you out when you walk in the streets.” 

Jungkook is terribly handsome, you’re very aware of it. You can’t go for a walk with your boyfriend without having all the girls checking him out. Jealousy is something you constantly feel but you trust him. You know he loves you and he would never do something to break your trust.     

You kiss him again fervently, wanting to taste his lips over and over again. Slowly your lips go down to his neck and you decide to mark him as yours. You softly suck his skin and to your surprise he let you do it. He knows that you just want to let all the girls know that he’s already taken.  

You feel the rumble of his chest as he starts to groan, and you feel his hands lay on your waist. Accidentally, your ass grinds against his length, and a groan leaves his lips.

“Fuck, butterfly.” 

Once you’re done with the little hickey, you lick the sensitive spot and smirk, happy with what you just did. 

His fingers find their way underneath your chin and lift it up. He wants his face to be the only thing you look at right now. His eyes are sparkling a lot and you know that you could forever get lost in his eyes. 

His lips find yours for yet another kiss and you could kiss him forever without getting sick of it. His tongue licks your lips, inviting you to open up your mouth for him. His tongue explores the insides of your mouth, making you moan into his mouth. 

“I need you, Kook,” you gasp as you feel yourself getting wetter. “I really need you, now.”  

Right now, all you want is to feel him inside you. You don’t want him to lick or finger you until you’re coming hard as well as you don’t want to feel his cock buried in your mouth until you swallow all his cum. 

“Looks like my little butterfly is very needy,” he says smirking against your lips. “But she’s lucky that all I want right now is to feel her tight walls around my hard length.”  

You both start removing the last piece of clothing that you were wearing, which are just your underwears. Jungkook finally sets ‘kookie junior’ free, that’s how you’ve been calling his cock lately. He doesn’t like it much but teasing him is one of your passions, so you decided that from now on you’ll call his length ‘kookie junior’.   

Your hand starts pumping his length, resulting in Jungkook rolling his head back and letting out a moan. Seeing and feeling his long and thick cock just makes you want to feel him inside you even more. 

You move your hand up and down his length at a slow pace at first before quickening. He is getting harder, panting out curses of how good it feels to finally have your hand around him again. Precum is leaking and you use it as lube to allow your hand to easily move along his dick.  

“Fuck, yn,” he curses as he looks at your hand working on his cock. But as he looks down, the first thing he sees is your baby bump and that sight can make him come undone in a heartbeat.  

You feel his cock twitch beneath your fingers, and you decide to stop this torture. You know that he’ll come right now and you still need to ride him before that happens. A desperate groan leaves his lips. 

“We don’t have the time for it, Kook.” 

You grip the condom he took seconds before and rip off the packing with your teeth. Then, you put the condom on his hard length while his hand slips to your wet core and he curses when he feels how wet you are. 

“Fuck, butterfly,” his cold fingers brushing against your core makes you moan. “You’re so wet,” he smirks and gathers your wetness in his fingers before bringing them to his mouth and sucking them. Your eyes are glued to what he’s doing, and you admire the way your wetness mixes with his saliva in his mouth. This is so fucking hot. 

Once he finishes sucking his fingers and the condom is put on his cock, his gaze meets yours and his hands fall to your hips, guiding your body up and then back down as you slowly sink onto his cock. 

You moan as he stretches you out, your nails sinking on his shoulder as you feel a mix of pleasure and pain.  

“Fuck!” you whimper as he groans, more than happy to be inside of your heat. You’re sure that Jimin and the girl he’s tattooing heard his loud groan, but you simply don’t care. All you care about is to be fucked by this man. 

“You’re so fucking big,” you say. 

Both of you stay still once his cock is fully inside you. You press your forehead against his, giving time to your body to adapt to his huge cock. You look into each other's eyes and he offers you a big smile. 

“It just feels like you were made just for me,” he says, and you smile back at him. 

“Maybe we are meant to be together,” you give him a quick kiss. 

“I am starting to think that we are,” he whispers. 

Jungkook is convinced that when you entered this shop almost two years ago, you were meant to be his soulmate. He never believed in that shit before you, but now that he’s with you, it all makes sense to him.  

“I could stay like this forever,” you say before giving him another kiss.    

“Me too, butterfly.” 

It feels like heaven, even though it hurts a little bit to have him fully inside of you. 

“Can I move or do we wait a bit more ?” he asks with concern. 

Instead of answering, you grind your hips to let him know that you’re ready to feel him move. Your prominent stomach brushes against his abs and a groan leaves his mouth.  

Your forehead leaves his, and you sit up before he starts to thrust into you without any hesitation. His strong hands go down on your hips, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust you at a slow pace. With every thrust he gives you; you feel your stomach get tighter. 

There aren’t words to describe how good it feels to share this moment with him. Everything is perfect with him, and finally having more than just oral sex with him feels like you got a ticket to heaven. You look at him, hot as hell, and that sight makes you moan. 

Knowing how Jungkook loves to handle everything when it comes to sex, you know that all you have to do is to sit on his cock and let him do all the magic, enjoying every single second of this moment. He is strong enough to hold your body up as he fucks into your cunt from below. His thrusts become fast as he starts to set a pace you are both comfortable with. 

“Feels good, butterfly?” he questions. 

You give him a simple nod, not able to make a proper sentence because you’re completely lost in your own state of bliss. Jungkook loves seeing you like this, completely fucked up. 

His hands caress your stomach, and in the middle of this debauchery, you can’t help but find this moment adorable. You know he’s doing it to reassure your baby, he confessed to you once when he did it while he was fingering you. And you have to admit that you like the feeling of his hands rubbing your skin. 

Your walls pulse around his length, squeezing him and it results in his thrusts becoming more brutal. He is deep inside of you, and you are loving it. Tears start to roll down your cheeks because of the way he’s pounding inside of you. He’s stretching your insides so much with his rough thrust and it makes your whole body tremble. 

If he keeps pounding you like that, you’re sure that you’ll give birth right now.  

“Gonna cum, Kook,” you whisper to be the most discreet, although you’re sure that Jimin has already understood that you’re both having sex.

Your nails sink into his shoulder, and he groans at the pain and pleasure it gives him. He grips your hips harder as he continues to roughly thrust inside you, and you are sure that you’ll have bruises.

“Go ahead, butterfly, make a mess for me,” he groans as he keeps thrusting hard. 

Those dirty words are all you need to let your orgasm go. You are coming, biting your lower lip to muffle your moans. Your thighs are shaking but he keeps thrusting into you while you’re completely high from your orgasm. 

Jungkook is completely loving the way you’re creaming his dick and just this sight could make him cum but he is determined to at least make you come one more time before he would come.

Right now, his priority is you and he just doesn’t give two fucks to the client he’s supposed to tattoo in some minutes. 

He quickly changes positions, flipping your bodies so that now he is on top of you and you are lying on the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as he keeps thrusting into you. He’s although very careful with your stomach because he doesn’t want to hurt you or the baby. This is too much for your body and quickly, tears start falling from your eyes, again.

“Kook,” you’re trying to speak but your mind can’t think straight from all this overstimulation, “too m-much,” even though it feels like it’s too much, your body is secretly loving. 

“I know you can take it, butterfly. Be a good girl for me, okay?” he whispers in your ear before he licks the spot right under your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You nod and you feel his tongue going down from your ear to your neck. 

Jungkook sucks and bites the skin of your neck, leaving a bruise. 

“I want everyone to know that I’m the only one who can touch you, butterfly,” his thrusts are still brutal, and you don’t know if your body can handle all of this any longer.  

“Fuck, Kook!” you say as your eyes roll back into the back of your head and he chuckles lowly into your ear. 

Due to his brutal thrust, the couch is creaking, and your breasts are bouncing like crazy. They also have swollen a lot since the beginning of the pregnancy, and they are becoming heavier as time passes.  

His thumb makes contact with your clit and starts rubbing it. All of this feels so bad and so good at the same time, but you never want him to stop. You’re doing everything you can to not moan but Jungkook is clearly pushing you to do it. He’s driving you completely crazy. 

The tip of his cock hits that sweet spot and you come all over him again. Your pussy clench around him as a loud moan escapes your lips, and the juices of your release are leaking out everywhere. 

He keeps fucking you through your high as he chases his own release. Your walls keep clenching around him and that is all he needs to come. He closes his eyes, enjoying this moment of release and you are sure he’d never look so sexy.  

Jungkook collapses over you as he decides to leave your pussy some needy rest. You both try to catch your breath for a little while, and you leave a lot of kisses on his sweet face. He’s loving it and he could stay like this forever but he has one final client before you can both go home. 

“I’ll tattoo the client, and you stay here until I come back, okay?” he lifts his head up to look at you. 

“Okay, Kookie.” 

He pulls his kookie junior out of you before taking the condom filled with his cum and throwing it in the trash. He puts his clothes back on while you do the same but at a slower rate. Before leaving the room, he kisses you. 

“Can’t wait to do this again tonight, butterfly.”    

FEBRUARY 20, 2019

Minho never expected to see you again, especially not in a supermarket. More than five months have passed since he last saw you. 

He's perfectly aware that he’s the one that completely put an end to whatever you two were having. He adored you a lot and under other circumstances, he's convinced that things between you would have worked. But Yeri, his ex whom he dated for years, came back to him, and things changed. He knew that if he chose you over her, his family would always reject you even if you’d get married. 

But he chose the easiest way for everyone, avoiding causing a lot of suffering. Things would have never been easy. He knows that he will never love Yeri as he used to but they share a long love story and she is what his family wants.   

As you’re looking at the fruits you’re going to buy, your swollen womb catches his attention, making his body freeze completely. Your right-hand strokes gently your obvious baby bump. 

His heart squeezes at the sight, thinking that there are chances that he’s the father. He closes his eyes for a few seconds. For the past months, you’ve been texting him frequently, trying to contact him but he refuses to reply because he knows that he’d fall into your arms in a heartbeat. This is beyond hard for him. Of course, he desires only to reply to your calls and texts but things are better like this.  

Now, it all makes sense. You’ve been texting him because you want to tell him that you’re pregnant. If he would have answered you, he knows that things would have been completely different. Most probably, he’d be right next to you in this supermarket and he’d be doing some jokes about your bump. Most probably, he’d be preparing his baby’s room instead of planning his wedding. 

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself. 

As he was about to walk in your direction, he notices Jungkook placing himself next to you. He’s smiling at you while his hand finds its way to your back. If he didn’t know that he’s your best friend, he’d think that you’re together. 

You look up at Jungkook before he leans closer to you and presses a kiss on your lips. Minho’s heart squeezes even more. You replaced him like he thought you would but you deserve it.  

After kissing Jungkook, you turn around and see Minho from afar. He’s barely recognizable with his hat and sunglasses but you notice him straight away. He’s still the biological father of your child, you’d recognize him under dozens of layers of clothing. 

“I’m coming back,” you say to your boyfriend before walking in Minho’s direction. 

Jungkook doesn’t even have the time to say or understand what you said before you leave him alone in front of the fruits. Minho sees you coming but he doesn’t move. His eyes are only focused on your stomach. It’s still small but it’s obvious that you’re carrying a human. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You’re more than surprised to see him here. It’s a public space, anyone could see him and it’s for sure the last place on earth where you thought you’d see him. 

“Just needed to buy something.” 

A bit far from him, you see his bodyguards. That was the thing you hated the most about him, his bodyguards. They were always around him, never leaving the two of you in peace.  

His eyes barely look at your face, and you know this is your only chance to tell him everything. You’ve been trying for months without success. 

“We really need to talk.” 

This is probably not the best place to have a serious conversation but you don't want to let the chance to speak with him slip away from you. 

Minho nods and you take a look behind you, staring at Jungkook. His jaw is clenched, showing you that he's not very happy to see you with Minho but you offer him a small grin, trying to reassure him. The last thing you want is your boyfriend to get worried.

You both start walking in the supermarket as you explain everything to him. From the way you found out about your pregnancy to the decision you took to recognize Jungkook as the father. 

Minho’s heart squeezes as he hears how you felt alone the moment you found out, but he’s grateful that Jungkook was there, holding you in such a difficult time. You needed someone at that time, and he just feels sorry that he wasn’t there.   

But he can only agree with the decision you took. Although he would have loved to be a father and be there every step of the way, he knows his father. He would have first tried to make you abort. Then, if it didn’t work, he would have simply made you disappear. He would have given you a lot of money to buy your silence and make you leave the country.  

“Jungkook will be their father but if you want to see them, I won’t ever stop you.” 

“I won’t ever do that,” he replies. His words make your heart clutch, thinking about the fact that he doesn’t want to meet his child. 

“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“All I want for that baby is to have the best life possible. Having two fathers won’t make things easier.” 

“We don’t have to necessarily tell them straight away that you’re their father.” 

For sure, until they’re three or four years old, you won’t say anything because they’ll be too young to understand and you’re scared that it would not provide them a stable life. 

“We could wait for a while and introduce you as a family friend until they’re old enough to understand.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just walking and looking in front of him. Being a father is something he has always dreamed of but his family always made things too hard. He ended up not wanting kids, too scared to become like his father. He never wants his children to hate him. 

“I want that baby to be protected from my family, yn,” he finally confesses before halting and looking at you. “I don't want them to know the pressure of being part of the powerful Park family.” 

You take his hand and squeeze it. 

“I prefer it if they never know that I am their birth father. They’ll be safer with you and Jungkook.” 

“But you can still be a part of their life. You can still love them and watch them grow. That’s your right, Minho,” you stroke your thumb on his hand. “This baby will forever have your blood in their veins and nobody can change that. They exist thanks to you and you have all the rights in the world to love them and to be loved by them. Maybe it will never be like you picture it but it will still be love.” 

A small tear runs down his face, and you wipe the tear away. 

“Jungkook and I would never hide to them that he is not their biological father but they’ll only know that you’re the father if you want it.” 

“I never deserved to have you in my life, yn,” he answers. “You’re just too nice.” 

“You deserve everything, Minho. You’re a good person, you were just unlucky to be born as the Park heir. I know you’ll always take decisions based on your family’s approval but nobody has to know about this baby,” you put his hand on your stomach. “Just you, Jungkook and I.” 

He nods before hugging you. This is something he can do. He can be around, see his child grow, and love them but nothing will ever be said to anybody, not even his fiancé. This will be his secret. 

“You’ll be a great mother and I am sure Jungkook will be the best father this baby will ever have.” 

You’re convinced of the same. Jungkook will for sure be the greatest, loving and protecting father ever. 

MAY 28, 2019

Jeon Hyejun. 

You’re looking at your baby boy that is peacefully sleeping in your arms. After nine long months of waiting, he’s finally here, and you’re on your own paradise with Jungkook. 

Hyejun is perfect, prettier than you ever imagined him. He looks a lot like you but he definitely inherited some traits from Minho, you can’t hide it. Jungkook is sitting next to you in the hospital bed, looking at you and his son. 

Nothing prepared him for this very moment. Nothing. He doesn’t even know how to describe what he’s feeling at the moment. All he knows is that he’s finally a father. The father of your son. 

When he saw you in his store, scared to do your first tattoo, he never thought that he’ll start a family with you and that he’ll love you more than life itself. But that’s the magic of fate. You don’t know who you might meet tomorrow. Anybody can drastically change your life. 

“He’s so beautiful,” you mumble as you pass one finger on your son’s face. 

“And so tiny,” Jungkook comments. 

Minho was contacted when you birthed Hyejun. He was the one requesting it because he wants to see him straight after he was born. Hyejun might never know that Minho is his biological father but he’ll have him in his life. 

He has already opened a bank account for him, and he’ll put some money until he’s old enough to be the holder of the bank account. He will never be his father but he still wants to provide him the best future he can have. Money is something he has in a huge quantity and it’s the least he can do. 

“We’re finally parents,” Jungkook adds. 

“It’s the beginning of a new adventure for us,” you look up at your boyfriend with a bright smile. 

You’re more than exhausted but you wanted to put your son to sleep before you sleep too. You wanted to be the first person to do it. 

“And I know it’ll be the best adventure of our lives, butterfly.” As he says your nickname, your eyes instantly look down at his arm where a little butterfly has recently been tattooed. A butterfly made for you. A butterfly that represents his immense love for you. A strong love that he has never experienced before you.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Gentle

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only. Minors, DNI.

Notes: No physical reader descriptions, no use of y/n. Also not beta-read. Because it never is.

Length: 3.6K

Warnings: Bradley took Reader's virginity and didn't know it; Reader was an older virgin; mentions of public sex; under-negotiated kinks; wrist restraints (belt); protected sex; vaginal sex; dirty talk; rough sex; aftercare

Summary: You expect him to be so righteously angry—a pinched expression, a knit brow, a tight jaw. But there’s something in those warm, dark eyes that looks so painfully mournful. 

It’s unfair. You both came. What’s he so put out about?

You’d almost prefer his anger to whatever the hell this is. Anger you could handle—but does he regret last night?

It’s a throwaway comment, one that you’re positive he’ll miss. The bar is bustling and so busy that it's a wonder he’s heard your friend crow it at all: 

“To seeing you with that freshly-fucked glow for the first time!” 

You aren’t scandalized by what she says. You’d told her the truth of it last night—offered sparse details and omitted names. You laugh and cheers with your friends. You’re not embarrassed by the mention, the tease.

But your insides are burning hot at the sight of Bradley in your periphery, his beer frozen halfway to his lips. You drain your drink and clear your throat, simply offering, “Getting another one,” As you push away from the table. You’re determined not to look at him as you go, praying that he just lets it pass. 

But Bradley Bradshaw has never been good at just letting things go. 

You’d been grateful for that last night. 

There had been something zipping between the two of you all day—little looks and lingering glances that had fanned your flames, blossoming into a wildfire as he’d led you into the alley by the bar the night before. You had felt the heat of him behind you, thrilled at the scent of his cologne, the bristle and prickle of his mustache and lips against your neck as his hands had grasped your hips to still you. 

You feel the heat of him as he comes to stand beside you now, smell his cologne as he sets an empty beer bottle down on the bar. Neither of you speak for a few moments. You’d hardly looked at him last night, either—pressed face-first against the brick wall of the alley, your pants around your knees with Bradley’s hand over your mouth to quiet you, his hot breath, soft groans and bitten-off swears pushed against the shell of your ear. 

It's a shame, you think, that you’re locked into this pattern with Bradley. He does have the sweetest eyes. 

“You should’ve told me.” 

He says it just loudly enough for you to hear it over the murmur of bar noise, the conversation, rattle of cocktail shaking, and the distant strain of REO Speedwagon over the recessed speakers. 

Maybe you should’ve. There had been a split-second when you considered it, but it had all happened so fast. 

It wasn’t how you’d always expected it to be. There was no bed covered in rose petals, no romantic music. You’d been so caught up in your need, in the thrill of feeling Bradley as desperate for you as you were for him.

You’d decided, as you’d showered last night, felt the ache of him between your thighs, eyed the bloom of bruises on your hips and a scrape on your cheek from where you’d been pressed against the brick a little too hard, that it was okay. You didn’t need roses or romantic music. You’d just needed the ferocity that Bradley had fucked you with, and the brush of his rough, work-worn fingertips against your neglected clit, and the moan of his voice in your ear as his hips stuttered and slapped against yours. 

“You didn’t ask.” 

You realize as Bradley shifts testily beside you that it’s the wrong thing to say, and maybe a little unfair. You tack on, “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Yeah, it does. I figured—” 

“I know. S'okay. Let it go, Bradshaw.” It’s unlikely, but worth a shot. If there’s one thing Bradley loves, it’s proving people wrong. You know as well as he does just how stubborn he can be, how by-the-book. But some things just nag and nag and he has to litigate them.

You can tell that this’ll be one of the things that he won’t stand for. Dog with a bone. Knight with a righteous cause. 

“You should’ve told me.” 

It’s his new refrain, you realize. You can’t imagine how he must’ve felt when he heard your friend, saw you laugh, waited for you to correct or argue with her. And did he notice the scratch on your cheek then? Did he think of the push of his body against yours, the quiver of your thighs as he’d stretched you wide around him, the buzz of your whimper against his fingers as he finally fucked you? 

"Doesn't matter,” You insist again. “Drop it.” 

“You should’ve told me—” 

“Lower your voice.” 

“I would’ve been more gentle.” 

“I didn’t want you to be more gentle,” You snap, finally turning to meet his eye. You realize immediately that it’s a mistake. You expect him to be so righteously angry—a pinched expression, a knit brow, a tight jaw. But there’s something in those warm, dark eyes that looks so painfully mournful. 

It’s unfair. You both came. What’s he so put out about?

You’d almost prefer his anger to whatever the hell this is. Anger you could handle—but does he regret last night? You sure as shit don’t. 

Your jaw works tightly as you fold your arms against your chest and turn back to the bar. He can regret it all he wants, if that’s what this is. 

“Anyway,” You press on, “I enjoyed myself. Thought you did, too.” 

“I did—” Small wonder, “But—” 

“‘But’ nothing, Bradshaw. We both had a good time. Just…Forget it.” 

You hear Bradley draw in a deep breath before his hand lightly comes down on the bar. When he curses this time, it doesn’t make your stomach flip with excitement. It just pisses you off. 

-- 

“Get in.”

Your annoyance has cooled and shifted to nerves. You glance around the parking lot, openly unsure. You can get a car to take you home. It could be there in two minutes, have you home in twenty. 

Bradley stands still as a statue, hand holding open the passenger side door as he waits. It wasn’t a question like he’d asked last night—”Wanna take a walk?” It isn’t a murmur accompanied by a warm hand on your lower back, steering you away from the thudding bass of the bar, from your friends as your stomach fluttered with anticipation. 

It’s an order, one that you’re tempted to disobey. 

But you climb into the Bronco and buckle up. You look straight through the windshield as he gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car. The drive is quiet, and does nothing to calm your nerves. Once Bradley parks, he just warns, “Don’t,” when you reach for the door handle. You expect him to launch into a lecture, but he gets out, rounding the car and opening the door for you. 

He’s practically your shadow as he follows you to the front door. You step aside once it’s open, unsure if Bradley will turn and head home, his self-appointed duty done. But he steps inside, shrugging his jacket off and throwing it over the back of your couch. He’s been there once or twice, but he still takes his time looking around as you lock up behind him and take off your shoes. 

“Shoes off, Bradshaw.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“You want something to drink?” You ask, stepping past him. 

“Water.” 

“You hungry?” 

“No.” 

You nod, flipping on the light in your kitchen and grabbing a couple of glasses for the two of you. You can hear Bradley's footsteps as he drifts lazily through your living room, joining you in the kitchen and taking the proffered glass of water with a murmur of thanks. The two of you sip in silence for a few moments. 

“Maybe I should’ve—” You start, then back off as you feel Bradley turning to look at you. You take another gulp of your water. “There just didn’t seem like the right moment to mention it. And bringing it up—it all would’ve felt like a bigger deal. I didn’t want that.” 

“Could’ve told me afterward.”

“We were more focused on getting back to the others.” 

“You tell ‘em it was me?” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s none of their business. Besides, they wouldn't care—and they didn’t ask.” 

“Seems to be your answer for everything these days.” 

You roll your eyes, setting your empty water glass in the sink.

“Okay. You bring me home just to scold me?” 

“No.” 

Bradley steps closer, lowering his water glass into the sink beside yours. You watch his hand lift. Your eyelashes flutter as he cups your jaw, turning your head toward him, his thumb sweeping gently across your skin. 

“Look at me.” He orders. Your focus sweeps up slowly, mapping the swell of his lips, the scattering of scars, the line of his nose before your eyes finally settle on his. He’s devoid of anger, still, and the sorrow is gone. Bradley’s expression seems deceptively neutral, and that’s far more concerning than any look he’s given you before. 

“Where’s your room.” 

-- 

There still aren’t any roses, but at least there’s a real bed this time. Bradley doesn’t guide you face-first into one of your walls or against the door. He keeps a firm grasp on your jaw as his tongue slips between your lips. You wind your arms around his shoulders, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

You try to urge him back toward the bed, but Bradley slides a hand down to your throat, giving it a warning little squeeze that makes you melt. You smooth one of your hands down his front, fingers skating along the cool metal of his belt buckle. Before you can undo it, Bradley catches hold of your wrist. He breaks your kiss, using the grasp on your throat to tip your head up to the side, and smoothing his lips along the exposed skin. 

“Slow down,” He murmurs against your jaw, the buzz of it tickling your skin. 

“But—” 

“Slow down.” It’s firmer now, and you have to tamp down a grin. You know what that tone is like from Bradley. You’re certain you can wind up face-first on your bed if you play your cards right. 

You just have to piss him off a little. 

You wriggle your wrist from his grasp, tipping your head down against the press of his hand, desperate to catch sight of his belt buckle as you fumble for it with both hands. You hear the short, irritated huff of Bradley’s breath before he catches both of your wrists in one hand. Your mouth waters at the clank of his buckle being undne as he gives your wrists a squeeze and shoves them away from him. 

“Take your clothes off,” He orders. “All of them.” 

There’s steel in his voice now. You begin to turn, your hands curling around the hem of your shirt when you hear him tut.

“Face me.” 

Your face burns hot as you go still. Bradley’s expression is flat again: mirthless eyes, and a firm press to his lips. You tug your shirt up and over your head, undo your bra, then shove down your pants and underwear. 

“Get on the bed.” 

You sit, and wait.

“Lie down.” 

You should scooch back toward your headboard, but instead, you flop down where you are, feet still on the floor. You yelp as Bradley lands a slap on your outer thigh. 

“Don’t play dumb,” He warns. “Go on.” 

You finally slide back, watching Bradley undress and fish a foil packet out of his back pocket. You eye his body covetously as he walks closer, climbing over you and straddling your hips, tossing the condom by your pillow.  

“Hands up.” 

You raise them obediently, holding perfectly still and hardly breathing as he loops the belt around your wrists. He holds your eye as he winds the belt around your wrists and the bedposts, a single brow raised. You can call it off now—you know he'll unwind it, pull back, stop.

When you nod, Bradley tightens it, the leather biting into your skin. 

You want what he gave you in the alley—the rush, his force, his ferocity and bruises. But Bradley kneels on the bed in front of you, curling his hands around your ankles, skimming them up slowly. You squirm, feeling exposed and vulnerable as his hands slip over your thighs, up across your belly. 

“Bradley—” 

“Hush.” 

You suck in a soft breath as his fingers smooth over your sides, pressure just firm enough to keep from tickling you. His head dips, kissing over your belly, up to the underside of one of your breasts. You try to arch into his lips as he leans further up. 

“Please,” You whine, but his tongue sweeps between your lips before you can say another word. You wilt back against the bed, your fingers curling and flexing around one another as your wrists strain against the belt, the buckle clanking against the bed frame. You want nothing more than to grasp and pull his hair, feel the slide of the strands against your skin.

“But—” You breathe as he breaks the kiss.

“Shuddup.” It buzzes against your skin as his kisses travel back down, sucking at each nipple, sweeping past your belly button as his shoulders push your thighs wide. You pull in a shocked breath as his hot breath skates across your pussy, chased by the teasing flicker of the tip of his tongue. You whimper, chasing the slick heat before Bradley’s hands curl around your hips. You open your mouth to complain again—but it dies on your tongue as Bradley laps broadly across your lips. He buries your face between your thighs, moaning lustfully against your slick skin. Your nails dig into your palms at the rattle of his groan shakes through you.

You whine, knees tightening around his shoulders as you shove your hips down against his lips. And though you’d expected him to reprimand you, Bradley’s hand slides up between your thighs, fingers teasing at your pussy. It’s only a moment before he slips one inside, curling it before adding another. You huff softly, cunt squeezing around him as his fingers pumping in and out—and in and out again as your hips chase his manic rhythm.

Your wrists yank against the belt, hips bounding as you chase the curl and snap of your orgasm, Bradley’s name falling from your lips as your pussy rolls against his tongue. He hums, lapping at your pleasure as your cunt clutches at his fingers. Your voice quiets as you settle, cunt pulsing as Bradley nuzzles your thigh, lightly nipping at the skin and slickly soothing it as your movements slow.

As you come back to yourself, you can’t deny the thrill of catching Bradley’s eye—the heat of it as he peers over your belly; the sly glint as he laves his tongue back and forth, fingers curling in your still-pulsing opening. You part your lips, waggling your tongue and grinning as Bradley surges up. 

You whimper as you taste your arousal on his tongue, shiver as his fingers withdraw and his cock twitches against your inner thigh. Your hips tip up on instinct, chasing the heat as Bradley’s length twitches against you. He reels back just far enough to grab the foil packet by your head, ripping it open with his teeth, and sheathing his cock in the latex. 

“Please,” You mumble before he can ask or tease, “Please—Need it, Bradley, I—Oh, fuck,” You gasp as he drives into you with a single stroke. Your pussy clutches at him, your nails digging into the leather of the belt as you push your hips up into his. Bradley’s hands land on either side of your head, flexing in the fabric of your pillow case as he holds himself steadily over you. 

“Shuddup,” He groans again—But my god, it’s a tighter sound than it was before, and it makes your pussy grasp at him as his face presses into your neck. 

“Bradley–”

“Quiet—”

“I need it,” You whimper, shoving your hips up against his, “Fuck, you feel so—Mm, Bradley, please—” 

“Just—” 

“I want more, Bradley, ‘m so—” 

You gag at the sudden intrusion of two fingers sliding between your lips. Your mouth falls open, eyes glazing and tongue laving against the rough pads of his fingertips as they rub over your tongue.

You let your jaw go slack, whines spiraling from between your lips as he finger-fucks your mouth, hips slapping against yours in tandem. Your toes curl in the fabric of your sheets, wrists yanking against your restraints. Bradley plants his knees against the mattress, his hips slamming against yours as the headboard rattles against your wall. You wind one of your legs around his, sucking in a breath as his free hand grasps and squeezes your thigh. 

Bradley pushes his face into your neck, fingers slipping from your mouth to hold your hips. You can’t fight the way your voice stutters in his throat at the slow, concentrated roll of his body against yours. You try to push against him, to urge and speed his pace, but Bradley seems to neither hear nor feel your urging and whines. 

It’s no use. Bradley’s grasp keeps you pinned in place, the slow grind of his hips drawing your orgasm nearer and nearer. 

“That’s it,” He encourages against your jaw. He groans as your cunt pulses around him, your hips bucking as your back arches. 

“Faster,” You breathe, then gasp as his strokes slow and deepen. Your eyes slip closed, pressing your head back against the pillow as your push your body up against his. You shiver, knees squeezing around his hips as the coil of pleasure in your belly tightens. 

“Look at me,” He urges, hand lifting to curl around your jaw. Your head flops like a ragdoll’s, eyes blinking blearily up at him. Your heart stuttering in your chest at the heated focus on his face—the parted, panting lips, and the way his dark eyes skate from your mouth to your slightly unfocused gaze. He tuts when your eyelashes flutter, giving your jaw a squeeze before you can close them. 

“Ah ah. Eyes on me, baby,” Bradley orders. “Show me how bad you want it—Show me,” He repeats as my mouth falls open to insist, “Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna hear another fucking word. You’ll take what I give you,” He growls, “And when you’ve cum, you’ll fucking thank me for it.” 

Your eyes roll back into your head as you buck up against Bradley, mouth falling open in a stunned, guttural shout as you cum, cunt pulsing around his cock. Bradley curses, dipping his head and laying a bite on your shoulder as his hips continue to grind slowly and steadily, fucking you slowly through your orgasm.

You wait for him to follow, to tip over the edge, but Bradley’s hips don’t stutter and slow like they did last night. Instead, his fingers slip between the two of you, teasing over your tender, swollen clit as his tongue sweeps across the freshly laid bite mark. You hiss in a shocked breath, hips bucking up into his rough touch. 

“Br-Bradley—” 

“Gimme another one.” 

-- 

Your hands slowly slip down to rest over your head as Bradley unwinds the belt from your wrists, dropping it across his other clothes where they were discarded by the bed. You sigh contentedly as you feel the bed dip and shift beneath you, and hear the soft pad of his footsteps as he leaves the room.

You know that you should move your arms, get some blood back into them, check your wrists, but for a few moments, you just lay there and let your body settle. Your cunt still pulses from the slow, sensual rolls of Bradley's hips, the sure and even way that he’d fucked you through another two orgasms before finally coming undone himself. You draw your knees together, shivering again as you squeeze your slick thighs together. 

“Here,” You hear. Your head lolls to the side, eyes blinking open as Bradley sets a glass of water down on the bedside table. Before you can try and push yourself up, Bradley sits beside you, hooking his arms around your back and helping you slowly sit up. Your head swims a little, and Bradley shushes you softly as you close your eyes to stop your head from pounding, resting your head forward onto his shoulder. 

“Y’alright?” 

“I think so,” You mumble. 

“Give it a minute.” 

“Mm.” You lean back against the headboard, eyes still closed as Bradley’s hands gently brush over your quivering thighs. “I should get cleaned up.” 

“We will,” He says. “Water's heating up for the bath.” 

You peek open one eye, brow raising in surprise. We, huh? But Bradley holds your eyes steadily, unflinching as he picks the water up and holds it out. Your arms throb slightly as you lift them to take the cup, drawing in a sip, then a gulp. 

“Slow down,” He chuckles. 

“Mmm. That again?” You ask, passing back the glass. “All I got tonight was slow.” 

Bradley sets the glass aside, scooching closer and nudging his nose against yours. He searches your gaze for a moment before his eyes dip to your lips. 

“You deserve slow,” He murmurs, “You deserve thorough. And one’a these days, I’m gonna teach you,” His lips ghost yours, “How good gentle can be.” 

“That’s not what tonight was?” 

“With a belt around your wrists? No, baby,” He chuckled. “That’s not what tonight was.” He leans away, grinning as you lean up, lips chasing his. “I’ll go check on the bath. Finish that water.” 

“Yessir.” You watch him get up, swiping your tongue over your lips. “Bradley?” 

He turns, brows raised expectantly, and smiling when he sees you reaching for him. He leans back in when you smooth your hand over his neck, submitting to the soft, searching kiss that you pull him in for.

“For the record," You tip your head back, "You were exactly what I wanted—last night and tonight."

Relief flickers in his warm eyes, lips quirking in a slight smile as he covers his mouth with yours again.

"For the record," He murmurs. "You're gonna like gentle."

"I know I'm gonna like it," You insist, leaning back against the headboard, "Long as it's with you."

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; 

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 @nominalnebula

[spencerreidenjoyer]

let you lock me down (tonight) | spencer reid x reader

You'd never really thought about having kids, but Spencer just might change your mind.

wc: 600, rating: explicit/18+

tags: breeding kink (this is the whole premise of the fic. oops?), talk of having kids/pregnancy, established relationship, fem!reader, set in s10-11

a/n: no reason for this other than the fact that sabrina carpenter's juno is one of my fav songs off the short n' sweet album. also i was probably ovulating when i started this drabble sorryyyy

You know Spencer had wanted kids since you first got together.

It hadn’t come up until a few dates in, where Spencer had been a little late to dinner because he was helping to watch over his colleague’s kid. He’d talked for half the night about how much he adored her kid as his godfather, with his colleague having a second one on the way, and how he wanted to be a dad someday.

You would’ve found it more creepy if you weren’t extremely endeared. Spencer was undeniably loving, caring, and impossibly sweet, and dating him was easy. Being with Spencer is easy. You get him, and he gets you.

You know Spencer wants kids, and that’s why when you mention it you’re not surprised by how he reacts.

It just happens to be in the middle of sex.

“Fuck, baby,” you giggle, Spencer being extremely eager as he pushes into you. “You’re so needy. It’s like you wanna put a baby in me.” 

Spencer chokes, his hips stuttering at your filthy words, and it just pushes him deeper into your tightness. “Oh, my God.”

“Does that sound good? You filling me up with your cum until it takes?” you moan, as Spencer rolls his hips into you. It shoves his thick cock deeper inside of you, bullying his way past your tight walls. 

“You make me sound like an animal,” Spencer complains, but his breathlessness tells you that he’s into it. He’s still fucking into you – hard, eager, desperate.

“You could fuck me like an animal,” you swoon, just a little, rather pleased with yourself and the fact that Spencer is so into this, so into you. “Wanna claim me as yours?”

Spencer laughs, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Not before you get me pregnant,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows. “Come on, you know you want to.”

”You are literally insane,” Spencer says, stilling his hips. They’re pressed flush against you, but he looks down at you sternly. “Are you being serious right now?”

You purse your lips, considering Spencer’s own concerned look. “Kind of?”

”Kind of?” Spencer parrots back. “Be more specific.”

”Maybe I just wanna enable your breeding kink,” you smirk, locking your legs around Spencer’s waist. The movement pushes him inside of you a little deeper, and he whines. 

Spencer rolls his eyes, half exasperated and half endeared. “I don’t have a breeding kink.”

“You do, baby,” you giggle. “And getting pregnant wouldn’t be so bad.”

Spencer’s eyes are so wide they look like they could pop out of his skull. “You– You can’t just say things like that! And we are not having a conversation about family planning while I’m inside of you.”

”Now would be the perfect time to talk about having kids,” you offer, but Spencer glares at you.

Smiling, you wriggle your hips just to get a rise out of Spencer. It works, you note, as he whimpers with the movement. ”Okay, so after you’re done with me?” 

“We’ve only been dating for three months,” Spencer says, furrowing his brows. 

“I know,” you nod. “And I mean it. You— You make me want to. Consider kids, I mean.”

Spencer sighs, but you see the way his eyes soften, hear the warmth in his voice as he tries to seem normal and calm about all of this. “Okay. I’ll make you cum and then we can talk about kids.”

“Aww. How romantic,” you say, as Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, and to fuck you again.

While you’d never seriously thought about having kids, Spencer is certainly making you reconsider.

[nmakii]

strayed from the main idea of this drabble… oops.

sae itoshi, who loves calling his girl ‘amorcita’. that’s fine, and all. it’s romantic, but he likes calling you his princess much more.

princess is more than just a pet name to him though. because to him, you’re truly a princess, graceful and beautiful despite your faults; someone who deserves to be given the world. he’d go to the ends of the earth to find something that doesn’t exist if you asked him to find it.

it’s not much of an exaggeration when you say that he’s down bad.

he is— he’s just very good at hiding it. he doesn’t boast about you loudly in the ways that someone like that devil— shidou— might, but he instead manages to offhandedly relate any conversation topic to you.

oddly enough, the only other time sae’s ever as talkative or passionate about something other than football, is when he’s talking about you.

that additional time where aiku asked shidou why he was making funny faces in the locker room? after that, sae mentioned, “my princess makes weird faces too. when she’s sleeping, her cheek is always pressed up to me, and it leaves a red mark in the morning. and, she can never manage to keep her mouth closed when she’s asleep. once, i was able to feed her while she was asleep.” and he sighed, silently smiling at the funny memory.

in his first interview after going public with you as his girlfriend, he immediately jumped at the opportunity to mention you. he had always thought that these interviews were an unnecessary hassle. he’s a good football player, and he’ll let his work speak for itself. “right! soo… sae, how are you adjusting to your new team?” the interviewer asks. sae thinks for a moment, his lower lip raising in a slight pout as he thinks of how to answer. “…the center forward has incredible dribbling skills, i’ll admit that. but, his shot range and goal chance percentage are awful. the rate at which he can score goals is still lukewarm.” he sighs disappointedly, “the best striker in the world seems to have not had his awakening yet. it’s annoying, but the city isn’t so bad. there’s a french bakery near my apartment that my princess and i like to frequent. she loves those flaky croissants with chocolate in them— pain au chocolat, but i tend to just get their house black coffee.” he’s recalling your typical order as if it’s the back of his hand, and the flow of his speech is much more relaxed than when he had been speaking about his new team.

and at this point, the interviewer is confused. “pardon… your ‘princess’?” he repeats, trying to confirm what he heard. sae nods, “yes, my princess; my girlfriend. she really likes those chocolate croissants. she eats about a fourth of it in just one bite. and when some hot chocolate from the inside burns her on the lip, she complains a bit and asks me to kiss it better. it’s really cheesy on her part, but i guess i don’t mind if it���s for her.” even sae doesn’t know just what he’s saying. he didn’t mean to reveal this much about how he feels. …yet, here he was, going on like a pining gentleman in love, and remembering how the softness of your lips felt against his as the piping hot chocolate pressed and stuck onto his lips as well.

in his eyes, you’re as close to perfection as there ever will be. it didn’t matter whether or not your physical appearance changed, or if you suddenly decided to change your career path— as long as you stayed as who you are, he’d be at your side.

and to be worthy of such a perfect human being; his princess. he has to become a king— a king of the field. one who domineers the field with his spatial awareness alone, and passes to the one who can keep up with his vision; the greatest egoist. that’s who he needs to become in order to earn your love; to become worthy of being the one that gets to love you every day and every night.

but even so, it’d still never be enough for him. you always make him want to push his limits further, and show you just how amazing he is.

sae’s really down bad for his princess.

[chithereader]

two idiots / aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader , aaron hotchner x shy!reader cw: bau!reader, shy!reader, painfully awkward, a little naive!reader too, more of pining hotch, build up word count: 1.7k genre: fluff a/n: ahh i got so much love for shy!reader thank u all so much, here's one for you <33 i really wanted to show little moments between the two that spoke volumes about how they really felt. hope you like it!!!

You’re deep in thought at the crime scene, carefully taking in the mess caused by the struggle between the victim and the unsub. Playing out possible scenarios in your head to figure it out, arranging and rearranging the order of events– pushed into the table, hit with the lamp on the head, victim runs to the kitchen based on the blood droplets.. 

While in the background you can faintly hear Reid and Morgan bickering, also barely registering the conversation between Hotch and the sheriff, as well as Rossi in your peripheral who is looking closely at the picture frames that lined the wall. 

You walk back to the door, quietly working things out in your head. You act out your theories subtly, quickly getting caught up in piecing it together. You fail to notice Hotch taking notice of you, studying you in your element– it’s always been your thing, puzzle pieces. He’s noticed in the first few months since you’ve joined that you view every case like a puzzle, and every clue, every factor, every moment- a piece. 

Hotch, along with the other members of the team, are in awe of you. Even Reid, who is a certified genius, is intrigued at the way you view these cases– often asking you for your thoughts and theories. Sometimes, your input and analogies are actually what helps him solve a case, proving your effectiveness in the team especially given that the team’s clearance rate has only increased since you’ve joined. 

But being too caught up in your own world, you’ve failed to notice Rossi bluntly staring at Hotch– watching him watch you. Morgan, who also noticed, has been smirking into his phone quietly relaying to Garcia that boss man’s in one of his “love haze” trances again, to add to the many that have happened over the course of a few months.

Shaken out of his trance, Hotch straightens himself as if realizing something when he was watching you moving around the kitchen. He walks out the door quietly and disappears into one of your cars. 

While Morgan and Reid continue their investigation upstairs, Rossi stays with you. Partly waiting if you stumble upon a revelation, and partly for Hotch to come back, curious as to why he suddenly went out. 

It’s been a few minutes and the reenactment in your head has taken you upstairs– onto the second victim. 

Just as you were about to envision what could’ve happened, the room made you halt in your steps.  You didn’t know how long you were standing there when you heard Morgan ask, “You okay, kid?” with a barely-concealed look of concern on his face. 

You realized you were probably standing frozen for a while, taking in the gut wrenching sight of the nursery bloodied up. He walks towards you and as he nears you, recognizes the look on your face. You were trying to hold it together, to not let the broken crib and stained sheets break you.

You nodded, “Yeah, it’s just–” you open your mouth but nothing really comes out. Looking around, you realize there are no words to say. You can only offer the four walls your silence for what they’ve witnessed. 

Your shoulders notably drop and that’s when Morgan reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to ground you. With your head on his chest, you feel the vibrations as he mumbles, “Just another day, kid.” 

With closed eyes, you breathe in his scent deeply– oak and mint, a seemingly weird combination that of course works on him. His comforting touch, rich smell and low voice have all comforted you. It’s brought you back to reality: that this is already done. And that the best you can do is catch the unsub who did this. 

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, to genuinely convey your gratitude through your eyes when you notice Hotch and Rossi out of the corner of your eye, looking at the two of you from the top of the steps. 

-

Deciding to go back to the precinct so you could build a solid profile, you all make your way back to the cars. You went to the crime scene riding with Morgan and Reid but to your surprise, Hotch ushers you out of the house and into the car he’s driving with a gentle but firm hand on your lower back. 

He guides you to the passenger seat- opening the car door for you and closing it as soon as you’re settled. You can only watch Rossi from the window waving you goodbye with a teasing smile, boarding the car Reid and Morgan came in instead of joining you and Hotch. 

As Hotch settles into the passenger seat, he reaches for a water bottle, opens it and hands it to you. You raised it in confusion while looking at him, not really sure why he’s giving you a bottle to drink. But he’s not looking back at you, only buckling his seatbelt getting himself ready for the drive. 

You start to lift it to your lips to drink it when he says, “You haven’t drank water since this morning– you’ve only had coffee.” Eyeing you from the side, as if pointedly saying that’s right, I know. 

The thought of Hotch watching you enough to notice what you have and haven’t been drinking makes all the blood in your face pool in your cheeks. You actually start to feel it getting hotter. 

You turn your head to the window while gulping down water, hoping that the movement and bottle are both masking the smile that’s fighting its way onto your face. 

His concern and ringing silence in the car, despite the radio playing softly in the background, made you feel pressured to talk and fill in the silence. But you really should’ve thought before opening your mouth because making conversation has never been your strongest suit. 

As you’re slowing down for a red light, you blurted “So… ho-how have you been, Hotch?” and as soon as the words awkwardly rolled off your tongue, you grimaced as if bracing for impact. 

You slowly turned to look at Hotch, expecting him to be annoyed or weirded out by your awkward and random question. Your eyes travel from his hand that’s on the wheel, along the length of his arm, to his shoulder and his neck, and finally to his face- sporting a soft but proud smile. 

“I’m okay, thank you for asking. You?” Thank you for asking? What are you- 4? Hotch is mentally kicking himself in his head, he should’ve said something cooler or more casual. He literally just sounded like a kindergarten teacher or the kindergarten himself. 

He bites his lip, stopping himself from looking like an even bigger fool– waiting for you to just bite and answer the question, then maybe he can come up with a better response and recover. 

Not expecting him to entertain your question, let alone return it, you stumble over your words.  “Oh– uhm.. Well, I’m okay. I’m– I’m good.” Your finesse always seems to leave the room the minute Hotch is in the vicinity. 

Nodding slowly, Hotch answers, “That’s good.. Good to hear.” God, can I be any more awkward? He couldn’t think of a better response, not when your reply didn’t leave him much of a choice but to start a new topic– all possible ones instantly fleeing his head when he sees your blushing face in his peripheral. 

You muster up the courage to steal a glance at him. Normally, you’d be in the backseat in cars, or at the back of a room, or to his side in the conference room– you’d just always be in positions and places that are strategically out of his sight. This was intentional because you enjoyed studying him. 

One would argue that Hotch is the hardest to read out of all the team members, but for some reason it has never been hard for you. You see the clenching of his jaw when he’s angry or irritated. The fiddling thumb thing he does when he’s deep in thought or drowning in worry.

You know his voice gets louder when he’s pushed past his limits, you know the pace of his breaths when he’s trying to calm himself. You know when he’s asleep because his brows twitch, as if the muscles in that part of his face aren’t used to being relaxed after a whole day of being scrunched in seriousness. 

Little did you know that the only reason why you know and notice all these things about him is because he lets you. His guard is alarmingly down ever since you’ve been around. Perhaps because there’s something about you that comforts him. Your presence relaxes him enough that he no longer feels the need to mask how he feels, to make himself unreadable. 

But maybe it’s also because he wants you to know him. The real him. Maybe he worries that you’d think he was emotionless. Hardened by the job and damned by the things he has seen. 

“You’re staring.” The deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Oh god, how long have I been staring at him? 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I- I didn’t mean to. I was just– I was thinking and I got wrapped up in my– I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” You rambled, fully panicking because not only have you made yourself look like an awkward idiot but you’ve now successfully added creep to the list.  

While the embarrassment is sinking in, you’re trying to look anywhere but at him, but your stomach drops even more when you realize you’re about to pull into the precinct– How long was I actually staring at him??!? 

Hotch easily puts the car in park as you’re now just staring at your lap in embarrassment and regret, and shame and– “I like it.” 

Lifting your head in surprise, “Wha-” in the split second that your eyes met you processed that he didn’t look uncomfortable or annoyed or weirded out– he actually looked.. Is he blushing? His neck is turning red, and you notice he swallows as if to clear his throat. 

“I like it when you stare at me.” Then he unbuckles his seatbelt, wears his sunglasses, and gets out of the car, in the cool hot way he always does while you’re left with your mouth slightly open, your stare following him as he rounds the car and talks to Rossi who just got out of the car parked across you. 

a/n: i think hotch definitely redeemed himself at the end!! i also thought maybe i should try the jealous!hotch route next time- what do you guys think? ◡̈